


Crimson

by JavaKitten



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Elvhenan is an AU, F/M, Fade Dreams, Fluff, Lingchi, Mass Death, Post-Trespasser, Smut, Torture, water boarding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-10-30 19:11:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10883160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JavaKitten/pseuds/JavaKitten
Summary: Threats of WarAlcohol just brings troubleLight fluff and SMUTDid someone say lingchi?





	1. Banding and Disbanding

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing a fanfic. I welcome creative criticism and suggestions on my writing format and story. Hope you all enjoy! :)

Maeve Lavellan the previous Inquisitor was standing on her balcony looking out at the snowy mountains as the wind whipped across her sharp elven features. It had been a mere half dozen moons since the crisis at the exalted council. Her mind whirling with all that had transpired; Solas' goodbye, his threat upon Thedas and most shocking the admission that the anchor would kill her. She had her left forearm removed in the hopes that it would save her life. The sting of disappointment swelling inside her as she watched many of the operatives and soldiers leaving Skyhold, their purpose fulfilled.  

   
A few of her companions departed as well, taking on new responsibilities with the goal of trying to better Thedas. Varric went back to Kirkwall, taking up the title of Viscount. He and Hawke started making improvements on Kirkwall, not just with their infrastructure but also helping the poor and displaced people dwelling in the slums by giving them work rebuilding, food and shelter. Cassandra and Cullen helped when they could but with Cassandra, wrapped up in her duties as Divine Victoria, had become overwhelmingly busy trying to lead the Chantry and help the Seekers. Cullen offered his services to the Divine and claimed the role of Commander of Arms for the Devine's forces. The others had their own callings they left to answer.  

   
Out of Maeve's closest companions, Vivienne was the subject of disappointment for her. Vivienne had always been straightforward and stern in her belief that mages need to have close supervision. After the exalted counsel Vivienne became the Grand Enchanter of a new circle and with the new title and backing from many members of the Imperial court she waged war with the college of magi. Vivienne had requested Maeve to openly support her new circle against the blasphemous college. Maeve may not be a mage but she did not agree with Vivienne's method and saw her for the power hungry vulture she was. She refused to help and clarified that as long as Vivienne continued her aggression toward the magi, she would receive no help in any form. 

   
Vivienne was the least of her problems. Even with the Qunari's retreat, peace for Tevinter was short lived. Since the Inquisition thwarted the Qunari's attacks, they returned their fury back to Tevinter... where Dorian was. She missed him, they had grown close over their time in the Inquisition. They spoke a couple times a week about his endeavors since going back to Tevinter and of Maeve's current predicament. Dorian had told her how he admired her humble beginnings. From being a priestess to Andruil in her clan to becoming the Inquisitor and taking on the arch-demon that threatened Thedas. She was flattered and grateful for such a kind friend and admired him as well. Instead of staying at Skyhold, he followed his heart back to Tevinter and stood up to the council, trying to fight the corruption that had claimed Tevinter.  

   
Snapping out of her trailing thoughts, she left the small stone room harboring Morrigan's eluvian and entered the garden. Morrigan had been waiting for her outside the door. "Inquisitor when you have a moment..."  

   
"Morrigan, you do not have to address me as such, the Inquisition is no more and I wish to bare my name not a title. But regardless, I have time now." Maeve replied.  

   
"Very well Maeve, I thought it best you hear it from me first. I have been in contact with Empress Celene."  

   
"I see and does she wish for you to return to her court?" Maeve asked. Her words woven with curiosity. 

   
"She does. However...." She said pausing for a moment and making eye contact with Maeve's. "I believe my abilities are better suited for helping you with your current predicament." 

   
Maeve was surprised, she wondered what it was that Morrigan knew or thought she knew. She looked at her with uncertainty, "What are you referring to?"  

   
"Don't play coy with me. I am the one who drank from the well of sorrows. The voices tell me more than whatever you could. However, my resources are limited to the knowledge of those who have drank from the well. There is at least one elf who drank from the well who is with Solas. Yet, even this elf is kept in the dark about much. Solas keeps his guard up with everyone it would seem. But you already know that from your experience with him."  

   
"Yes, thank you for that reminder Morrigan." A sigh push through Maeve's lips as she continued on, ignoring Morrigan's comment. "Have you told the Empress what you know?"  

"I have kept the information to myself, until now that is." Morrigan had said while crossing her arms.  

   
"You are more than welcome to stay. Your knowledge and abilities have proven helpful in the past with regards to gaining Mythal's help. I have no doubt your help will prove vital for dealing with Solas and his fellow elvhen."   
   
   
\-------------  

  
   
Maeve's chambers were simplistic and organized. She was odd in that manner; her focus could easily be distracted if other reports and books sat open and scattered. The writings and images among them catching her eyes instead of the main report that needed her attention. She felt the physical clutter would also clutter her mind. She had two bookshelves behind her desk full of many reports, poetry, and novels she had found during her travels. Her desk had that mornings reports neatly stacked in the middle, embrium scented candles burning at the two front corners of her desk, and a teapot paired with a cup of hot elfroot tea, freshly made and set to her left side. 

      
Her favorite drink was Chasind Sack Mead, it was sweet from the honey but intensely strong. Two cups of that and she was drunk. Even The Iron Bull would have been out of his senses by the fourth cup. Josephine made it clear that her drunk reports were less than helpful after the time she and Sera had gotten drunk and drew bees and asses all over them. So tea it was. She kept her room modest for the most part but she couldn't resist the Avvar bed. The soft bear pelt reminded her of home.  

As a priestess to Andruil, she slept in thick bear pelts and given offerings to pass on to Andruil through personal prayers and works. When it came to the hunt, she taught and instilled the Vir Tanadhal in all the clan's hunters. In order to hunt and respect the balance of nature, it was a required part of the hunter's lifestyle. Her duties didn't stop at teaching the Vir Vanadhal, she leads the hunts, prayers and rituals. Any aspect that involved Andruil, went through her as to only provide the purest worship to the gracious goddess. 

The clan afforded Maeve luxuries that even the Keeper wasn't afforded. Because her duties required commitment and disciple, she was never required to marry or be sent to another clan unless desired. It was an agreement the majority of Keepers agreed to at the Arlathvhen. It was a rare occurrence to have a priest or priestess in any clans. Being blessed with such a position was highly uncommon and a substantial gift. For her dedication to the clan and Andruil, they exalted her, for to treat her as their equal, was an act of blasphemy, and a punishable offense. But that was years ago before she had no choice but to take up arms and fight. 

It was dark outside, she could see the deep blue light of the night through her green Dalish drapery embroidered with golden trim and vermillion trees elegantly entwining through. She spent a good hour reading through reports and writing her own for Josephine and Leliana before she felt the urge to sleep. Crawling into bed, she laid under the bear pelt in only in her undergarments. She knew it would seem bizarre if others knew but feeling the skin of another creature somehow soothed her lonely and overwhelmed spirit.    
 

She relaxed for the first time that evening, slowing her breaths as she focused on the soft and sheltered feelings the pelt gave her. Closing her eyes to welcome the consuming black abyss lurking behind her eyelids, drifting quietly into a peaceful slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arlathvhen- A meeting that happens every 10 years where Dalish Keepers convene in a meeting.
> 
> Vir Vanadhal- The way of the Hunters


	2. The Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maeve gets answers from the wolf.

The wolf returned to Maeve that night as it had done many times. It had been a few days since their last encounter. She wasn’t sure how this strange wolf could penetrate her dreams; always pacing at a distance, weaving itself through the foliage of trees and brush. It didn't matter what dream she was having, the wolf would pull her into its domain, into an unfamiliar landscape. It wasn’t from anywhere she had been before. Each time she was brought to the wolf, this same woodland landscape surrounded her. Tall trees and brush populated the ground with small patches of taller grass and close clusters of blooming flowers that  sporadically littered the lush ground. There was a small riverbed in the distance that always stood between her and the wolf, no matter which side she appeared on.  

Every time Maeve tried to close the distance between her and the wolf, it would disappear, breaking her abruptly from her slumber. This time she would need to control her temptations and not give chase. Instead of pursuing the wolf, she would let the wolf make the first move. There was something the wolf wanted, this breach of her dreams had grown too frequent to justify as coincidence. 

Maeve walked towards the riverbed, knowing the wolf would appear on the other side soon enough. Their encounters had become repetitious, but Maeve intended to break this fruitless cycle. She started by unbuckling the straps on each of her thighs that held her daggers, placing them on the grass beside her. Before removing her belt that held her elemental flasks, blowgun and poison darts. The Iron Bull and Sera gave them to her as a gift after losing her arm which hindered her unable to use her bow. This way she could still attack from somewhat of a distance when she needed to be stealthy. She placed the belt next to her daggers.  

Although the wolf had never harmed her before, she felt uneasy leaving herself defenseless. She wasn't used to combat as a one armed rogue and to leave herself without a weapon seemed counterintuitive. Stripped of her weapons, a thick black romper was all that adorned her. The fabric was snug against her figure, with the right sleeve extending down to her wrist forming a point where the tip looped around her middle finger. 

With all her failed attempts to catch the wolf, she resorted to contradicting her previous method. Although the weapons were placed on the ground, Maeve made sure to keep them within reach, she didn't know what to expect from the wolf and having them close gave her some comfort. She kneeled down, closing her fierce green eyes, bowing her head against the tall thin blades of grass and letting her long black hair slide down the sides of her back. And there she laid waiting, hoping to see if the wolf would come close enough to grace her presence.  

"So you have finally stopped trying to hunt me." The wolf said.  

Her eyes shot open while her head still lay against the ground. Maeve was struck with bewilderment. 

_The wolf can speak... and he speaks with a familiar voice... Solas? But not Solas?_   

The wolf's voice is different, it sounds as if there are two people speaking in unison.  

"Do you think yourself clever for playing defenseless?"  

Her lips parted but no words would form, what was it that she should say? Thoughts raced through her head but her voice remained stagnant. 

"You would ignore me after all your attempts to chase me?" The wolf's voice had risen.  

"I... I chased you thinking you wanted capturing." Her words stumbled from her lips, "I thought... that is why you keep bring me back here to you..."  

"What I wish, is for you to listen. For you to know me... I can hear you. Your thoughts are as loud as spoken words. I know you placed your weapons within reach should you need to defend yourself... Let me assure you that your attempt will be futile. Now, to your feet."  

There didn't appear to be another options that would prove beneficial, so she obeyed. Pushing herself off the ground with her right hand, lifting the majority of her body weight with her legs. She stood up straight, stiffening her muscles steeling her stance.  

The wolf's gaze piercing into hers. "Pick up your weapons...."  

She obliged his order, grasping the belts that sheathed her daggers and held her potions and darts.  

"Throw them into the river."  

Concern washed over her face as she turned and stared as her only chances of defending herself hung in her grasp. Clenching her eyes shut, she turned her head away as she threw her weapons into the river. 

Her plan worked as much as it backfired. Breaking ground with the wolf had left her exposed. 

"Kneel."  

She did as commanded, lowering her head to look at the crisp greenery that seized every inch of the ground. Watching the grass and flowers dance whimsically in the soft breeze.  

Maeve had proven herself well intentioned by her compliance. The wolf advanced towards her with silent agile steps awarding her obedience with his presence. Stepping through the shallow river, he settled his face a few inches away from hers. "Look at me, Lavellan."  

The heat of its breath warmed her smooth pale skin, its warm caress caused her to feel uneasy. When Maeve looked up, the wolf's vibrant red eyes were leering at her. 

"Do you recognize whose essence I carry?"  

Maeve's brows furrowed at the question. _A_ _riddle?_ She thought.  

"It is no riddle. Get past your logical reasoning, look beyond my physical appearance, see me for who I am, not what I appear to be." 

She had forgotten her thoughts are like spoken words in this place wherever this place was. She tried to focus, as best she could, allowing the wolf's eyes to claim her attention. And there it was, a glimpse... it was him, it was Solas.  

The wolf smirked, "I am, but I am more..."  

"Fen'Harel" The name came out as a whisper.  

"Yes, ma Vhenan."  

Maeve was at a loss for words, there was much she wanted to say but wasn't sure what to say. Part of her hoped the wolf was Solas, but now that she knew it was him, what was she to do? 

She avoided his gaze looking instead to the river, its current swirling the dirt that lay upon its floor. Her mind went through flashbacks of her and Solas, all their journeys and experiences that bonded them over that time of working side by side. Who was it she has a bond with? Who was it she loved and who was it that loved her? This being before her isn't one form but not one person. 

"Both." He replied.  

Her eyes jolted back to him conveying her disbelief. "Liar!" She snapped. "How could you love me? Between your pride and your precious veil, there isn't any love left for me!"  

He glared at her with irritation, "Oh, I see... I struck a nerve. You feel I am the true evil you fight. Between Corypheus, your hand, and now my plans for the veil, you feel betrayed. You believe I betrayed you."  

She scowled at him, "Pretend all you want, you know what you've done!" 

"Stop lying to yourself, you have never been a martyr from my doings. Corypheus was an unexpected outcome you entangled yourself with when you picked up my orb of your own volition. Whether you intended to or not, the anchor was of your own doing. You were-"  

"And what about Thedas?!" She interjected, "You would damn us to death! Not just me but our companions and other elves as well!"  

"Yes..." His tone lowered, "I must fix my mistake. My people, our people deserve their home and lives that they had been robbed. And the only elves that will die are those who refuse to answer my call."  

She averted his gaze. Her heart filling with shame.  

"Like you refuse to answer..." He continued.  

Her voice lowered, "I will not abandon our companions or those who need my help."  

Maeve looked back up to him and saw it clear as day. Even as a wolf the disappointment Solas felt painted over his wolven features. He took a deep breath in eyes closing tightly as he turned away from her. 

"Time waits for no one, not even you... Ma Vhenan."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven translations are from the Dragon Age Wiki


	3. Not a Good day Indeed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just another meeting in the war room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dialog dense chapter setting up for the events to unfold.

The sun was still rising when Maeve awoke from her dream. She was shocked by the sudden jolt that woke her from sleep, but guilt quickly replaced it. Maeve knew Solas was right, the it was not his fault that she picked up his orb. The chain of events that unraveled because of this lead to the loss of her left forearm. What stung the most was his disappointment of her refusal to come with him. To be safe by his side when he finally tears down the veil. She blamed her future death on him, but it was ultimately her decision. By choosing not to join Solas like many of her fellow kin, she had accepted her fate. She would risk dying with the people of Thedas. What he preached was genocide, how could she bare to condone such a thing? But a small part of her understood him...

Guilt was eating away at Solas as it has been for some time. Solas owed his people a second chance, needed to feel vindicated, he must make up for what he had done to them and what has become of their descendants. Every place they had traveled to during their journey made his grief more unbearable. Elves being slaughtered out of pure hatred, many displaced, and the ones who were able to survive and work were lowly servants. This was an injustice he could no longer bare.

Everything was weighing heavily on Maeve's mind, she needed a distraction something to give her peace of mind. She looked over to the desk and saw some reports that she still needed to review. She wrapped herself in the bear pelt before rising from her bed and grabbed a quill and the reports from her desk, pushed the heavy green curtains over and opened the tall glass doors. There she sat on the balcony floor reading and letting the sun warm her hair while the bear pelt caressed her skin in the cool breezy morning.

Trying to finish the remainder of the reports was taking more time than expected, they were dense with vital information. The last report she had to read was tired together big packet it contained; briefs from Josephine and Leliana, letters from Cassandra and Cullen, and responses from King Alistair with the mark of his commanders in Ferelden. Apparently King Alistair seeks to wage war with Orlais. After King Alistair's representative left the exalted council and briefed him on the events that had transpired. He had had enough of Orlais' games and unstable structure as a nation. Also claiming that Orlais is undeserving of its lands and wealth. Many of his informants that were at the Winter Palace had reported Gaspard's plan to overthrow Empress Celene that night. Coincidentally Florianne had plans of her own to kill Celene, but wished to turn power over to Corypheus. The exalted council seemed to have been the last straw for King Alistair. He felt that by having both nations under one ruler will make for a more harmonious Thedas. The last paper in the stack was the most recent letter from Cassandra and Cullen asking Maeve's opinion on the matter.

Placing her hand to her head, Maeve let a sigh escape her lips. _This is not a good start to the day._ She thought. It wasn't until she had taken a break from intensely focusing on her reports, that she finally noticed the crow standing on the railing of her balcony. There was a small rolled piece of parchment tied to its leg. Maeve reached up and untied the note from the bird's foot.

 

It read:

_"Maeve,_

_As nice as you look in a bear pelt,_

_Might you consider putting on some clothes....._

_We await you in the war room._

_Leliana_

_P.S. Sera along with Bull and his chargers are sitting outside the tavern watching you."_

 

Maeve's eyes shot widely open in mortification. She turned her head looking out over her balcony to see them all waving at her, making sexual innuendos. Her face blushed a vibrant shade of red once she met their gazes. Clenching the bear pelt tightly in her grasp, Maeve rushed back into her chambers, letting the thick grand curtains conceal her.

_Not a good day indeed_ , she told herself.

 

\------------

 

Upon entering the war room, Leliana and Josephine stood waiting patiently for Morrigan and her to arrive. Leliana gave Maeve a mischievous smirk the moment she walked in, knowing well that Josephine had a few things to say about Maeve's balcony scene.

"Maeve, what are you thinking sitting out on your balcony in just a bear pelt in the middle of the morning? Is that the kind of attention you want to draw?" Josephine gave her a scolding look.

"No Mother Josephine, I hadn't planned on it happening to begin with, but it will not happen again. Considering that I won't be using my balcony for a while after my incident this morning." Josephine stayed silent, pursing her lips.

"I am sorry Josephine, I will be more mindful of my surroundings.... promise."

"Talking about the tease show this morning?" Morrigan chimed in.

"Hopefully not anymore", Josephine replied. "We have a serious matter on our hands. Maeve, have you gotten the chance to read through the reports Leliana and I have given you?"

Maeve nodded, "Yes, I was able to finish it all this morning. I don't know how to change King Alistair's mind, seeing as Ferelden has had bad blood with Orlais for quite some time. We may be able to defer him from such a war but only for a short while. Might we ask Cassandra to go see King Alistair for a private peace talk? Cullen and some of his guards could accompany her for her protection. My hope is that Cassandra as the Divine, will attempt to negotiate peace terms with King Alistair. I find it imperative that Orlais does not find out about Ferelden. Even the slightest mention of what Ferelden is considering could cause chaos." She looked to her advisors seeking their input.

"It could work", Leliana conceded.

"Diplomacy is my specialty, I can handle the letters with Cassandra and advise her as needed." Josephine smiled. Maeve looked over to Morrigan. "What about you Morrigan?"

"Alistair is stubborn, I find it unlikely that anything you do will change his mind. However, to do nothing is not a viable answer. We need act quickly, I have no doubt that if we know about King Alistair's plan, Solas already knows as well." Morrigan spoke in her usual neutral tone but allowed her eyes to avert directly at Maeve. "We can attempt to stop this war but ultimately Maeve, your focus needs to be on Solas."

A silence fell over the room for a moment. They all looked to Maeve observing her stiffened demeanor.

"We know you hope to changes Solas' mind, but we must also be prepared should he pursue tearing the veil." Morrigan's voice was as cold as her glare. "If the time comes, will you have the heart to do what must be done?"


	4. Play off my Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fade dream SMUT. Lavellans first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. First time writing a SMUT scene. Edited 07/24/17.

She laid on her back. Her long black hair draping over the grass around her like silk with a few blades of grass piercing through. She wistfully gazed up at the full moon, innocently admiring its bright and pale glow. The stars were barely visible on this humid summers eve. There she laid, soaking in the sweet warm dew of the night while intently listening to the soft rhythmic current of the river beside her. The current chaotic status of her world had been consuming her thoughts for long. She reminisced on the last moment of peace she had experienced. Thinking of past time, she noticed that it had been awhile since she had lasted bathed. She sat up and longingly marveled at the calm, trickling river. The moon's bright reflection glittered on the clear, crisp water, dancing upon the gentle ripples of the river. 

Maeve walked to the bank of the river. Removing her boots, she slowly dipped her toes in. The water was brisk but subdued the warmth of the evening. She playfully flung her clothes and weapons onto the river bank, freeing herself of any residual anxiety or tension left in her mind. She began to carelessly glide through the water, letting it engulf her naked body up to her navel. She immersed herself completely under the water and slicked back her wet hair upon rising. Her supple skin sparkled with the moon's gracious light. A sly grin crept upon her face as she realized she had gained absolute tranquility in these moments. She turned her body in circles, allowing her hand to glide along the surface, interrupting the peaceful flow of the water. She peered back at the moon and giggled to herself. I never want to leave... She thought to herself.  

“Aneth ara.... Come to me and you will never have to again…" 

A startled gasp escaped her lips before she turned seeing Solas in his human form, a few yards away from her. She stood before him, not caring that she was bare. She addressed him, "I should have known you would eavesdrop on me."  

He smirked, "I am always listening for you, Vhenan."  

She turned her face away trying to hide the blush on her cheeks, “even outside of our dreams?" She asked.  

"If your ‘need to be heard’ is strong enough."  

She could no longer control the tears that crawled down her cheeks, "how do you do it? How do you carry on as if everything is fine between us? You hear my need for your council and yet you ignore me. You corner me and while doing so you play off of my heart."  

"The council you seek is against what I must do. You will always have a place by my side should you choose to. Realize what we have is pure and what I must do does not change who you are to me."  

She peered back at him as he calmly walked towards her, slipping his tunic over his head. He knew that what she needed was more than words. She needed him, his love, his lust. Once he had reached the river bank, he tossed his thin leather shoes onto the ground before sliding his pants off.  

She stood in awe of this glorious man before her. His lean muscular body caused her mouth to salivate. The steel blue of his eyes entranced her. He stepped into the water, breaking the cool liquid barrier that surrounded her. Her legs became weak from desire. Her hunger for him was becoming unbearable. He placed his hands on her cheeks, leaning her forehead against his while pressing his naked body against hers.  

"Emma sa'lath," the whisper of his voice gave her chills.  

She laid her hand over his chest. His heart felt like the buzz of a hummingbird. As stoic as he was, his thirst for her was just as passionate as her thirst for him.  "Ne'emma lath," her voice whimpered at the warmth of his body.  

His lips laid themselves delicately against hers. Warmth flourished over her as if his kiss was fueling the greed she had attempted to lock away. She had been yearning this moment for years. The moment he would take her and make her whole filling her mentally, spiritually, and physically. She trusted him and his senses of what she needed. With her inexperience, she knew he would guide her with pure tenderness.  

The water camouflaged the growing moisture between her legs from their kiss. The warmth of his chest mixed with the cool water wrapping around her body made her nipples erect and sensitive to the touch of his flesh. She was grateful she was standing in water, her lightened weight made it tolerable for her weakening legs to manage. Maeve’s hungry lips were left starving as he started moving down her neck to her chest, his ethereal kisses traveling down until he reached his destination. Strong slender hands gliding down her gentle curves until they wrapped around her back, his palms gently pressing her back towards him as he put her nipple in his mouth. The rhythmic sensation of his tongue sucking, nibbling, and flicking her nipple was wildly pleasing. Her determination for self control was on the brink of eradication. Low moans released from her throat with each tender kiss he gave her. He continued his path from her nipples down to her navel. Allowing his hands to caress down her back and over her ass, cupping his hands underneath each cheek, picking her up granting her legs their grasp around him.  

Solas's eyes focused on Maeve’s as he gently pressed his taut chest against hers, whispering softly into her ear, "I will give you what no one has.” Just before finishing his last word on of his hands slid further down gently pressing two of his fingers against her clit. Long artistic fingers painting light circular strokes against her sensitive nub of nerves. Maeve’s breath quickened as the heightened sensation grew in her nether regions. She let a request slip out of her quivering lips, “End my longing”.  A smirk danced along his beautiful lips as he obliged withdrawing his nimble fingers from her clit, sliding his hand back to her ass. Sliding his throbbing shaft into her soaking wet pussy. Her moans of ecstasy echoing through the woods as she clutched and clawed at his back. The water rippled around their naked bodies following the tempo of his thrusts.

The wanton in her leafy-green eyes ignited his rapturous hunger for her. He would take her, everything that she is and will be. Here she was before him, the love of his life. His bond mate. The depth of his thrusts grew deeper hitting her walls with an upwards motion while using her ass as a handle to further impale her little tight flower onto his erection.  

Solas kissed and nibbled on her luscious skin. A sweet and salty treat all on its own. So soft and smooth yet salty from the sweat that beaded her pale skin. She asked for release and he was intent on giving it to her. To be the only one to hear her songs of pleasure was exquisite driving Solas stronger than any aphrodisiac. He slid the length of his shaft in and out of her tight pussy, burring it deep as her walls would allow. Her lower body wove over the surface of the water with the rhythmic timing of their bodies. The waves of the river grew as their movement stirred the water, causing the culminating waves to splash against her clit sending her into an orgasmic trance. The simultaneous thrusts along with the cool sensual flick of water against her clit caused her cry out even more loudly than before. Her hair whipped as she thrusted her head backwards, sharply arching her back causing their bodies to form a perfect “Y”. She gripped his shoulder tightly as if she was hanging on for her life. Her passionate cries forcing their escape from her tense body. The pulse of her tightening flower brought Solas to the edge. He thrusted into her harder until finally his release came. One hand holding her up while the other grabbed the back of her head pressing her lips against his. She welcomed the warm sensation of his seed as it spilled, filling her in waves.  

There they stayed, their bodies weak from the intensity of their orgasms. But their lips refused to release their grasps. Their tongues danced and twined with each other’s in a warm, wet embrace. Letting the cool breeze caress their sweltering bodies. 

With the strength returning to his legs, Solas slowly trudged through the water carrying her to the bank of the river laying her down against the grass before lowering himself beside her. She turned over, laying on her left side she placed her right hand over his body relaxing it on his shoulder. He closed his eyes letting himself recuperate from their entanglement. Maeve couldn’t stop looking at him and his beautiful features. His smooth, sculpted abs rising and falling with each breath.  

This was her moment of release, release of happiness... happiness with him. Reality's harsh grasp refused to allow her such blissful dreams. Her heart and mind were warring with each other. Her heart pleading, _He is your first love, he wishes to save you...._  

H _e means to destroy Thedas, massacring many, how can you look into the eyes of your friends feeding them hope while you give yourself to the very man who would annihilate them?_ Her mind argued.  

_He is a man trying to fix his mistakes. Would you not do the same if the tables were turned?_ Her heart retorted. 

_Stop lying to yourself, you know there is no changing his mind. Thedas will fall if you let him live. Their blood will be on your hands just as much as his._  

The back and forth mental battle was tearing Maeve apart. She sat up, retracting her hand from him to grip her hair by the roots, rocking uncontrollably. Muffling her cries was proving to be a challenge of its own. She lifted her head looking toward the river for comfort, hoping its sight or sound would bring her peace once more. Upon looking up, she was instead greeted by the moon’s bright reflection against the blade of her dagger just inches away from her. Its was the cruelest rejection she ever felt.  

Grab it.... The thought was burning through her, forcing her will to give in. She leaned over and grabbed the handle of her dagger. She looked over her shoulder to see Solas still sleeping. She scooted closer to him sitting herself up onto her knees. She lifted the knife over him, aiming for the blade to pierce through his softly freckled chest. She was shaking uncontrollably, her fingers numb from her tight gasp and nervous quiver. Knots were tightening in her stomach, nausea was taking over. She took a deep breath and held it in, silencing herself. She could no longer tell if it was her conscience or heart pushing her to the edge.  

_Solas or Thedas..... MAKE YOUR CHOICE!_   

A swift death was the least she could do for him. Squeezing her eyes as tightly as she could, she slammed her dagger into him. Once she felt the blade fully implanted into his chest, she slowly opened her eyes and was blinded by regret. She didn't see an enemy of Thedas anymore, all she saw was her love lying with her knife inside him. She became frantic as she regretted her choice immediately. She ripped the knife out of his chest, throwing it as far away from her as she could. She slid her right arm under his neck, lifting him to her chest, cradling him as tightly as she could. Hysteria had taken her over. Her painful cries echoing through the woodlands that surround them. She kissed him sporadically over his face as if each kiss would breathe air back into him.  

"Solas.... Ir abelas." It was hard to speak through the muffled tears. She was gasping for air as if her cries were suffocating her. She wanted him to know even if he couldn't hear her.  

"Ar la-" The last word lingered in her throat. She looked down, meeting the wicked gaze of his vibrant red eyes. The sight of him alive startled her. Using his brute force, he pushed her backwards into the ground as he straddled her. A yelp of pain forced its way from her chest.  

"Ar lath?!" He yelled.  

Maeve’s tears forged a new path as she laid there, sliding down the sides of her face going over her temples into her dark hairline. This is what he meant when he said her attempt to hurt him would be futile. She felt a split second of relief in her... he was alive. Her hand lifted towards him placing her palm against the left side of his cheek and jawline, her thumb brushing his lips. He refused to allow his anger to be persuaded so easily, tightening his grip on her delicate neck. She snatched back her hand back from his face, clenching his wrist with what weakened strength she had left. 

Words were useless in this moment. She struggled to get even an ounce of breath back into her body. Solas’s dark glare was as painful as his grasp. The commonly unreadable elf was now coated in disappointment and sadness. He removed his grasp from her neck, instead clenching his hand over her cheeks. His palm covered her mouth as to not hear her pleading or justification of what she had down. Solas leaned his head over hers until the tips of their noses met. A wolf-like figure surrounded Solas’s form. Its deep blue energy radiating off his body.  

"You choose them over me? Did you honestly think I couldn't hear your thoughts?"  

Maeve could see the pain in his eyes, pain she had caused. He held his hand over her so tightly that no amount of her wriggling would free her mouth.  

"Lay still and listen well!" He commanded. Maeve had little choice other than to obey his demand and still herself. He had no intent of hearing her voice. She had betrayed him in the worst way possible. She knew with the essence of the wolf around him that Fen'Harel was the one addressing her.  

"You think your path righteous but you are ignorant. Instead of killing me, all you have done is proven yourself lower than me. I seek to raise up our people with you by my side, I seek to save you..." He paused gathering the strength he needed to force out what he had to say. "But you choose those who enslave our people, who have been warring for decades. You would kill me for them..." His voice cracked. He removed his hand from her face, using his other hand to push himself off of the ground, turning his back to her.  

Maeve picked herself up off the ground. She couldn't let him walk away, not like this. She went to take his hand but was surprised when he looked over his shoulder with a distraught expression. She paused while looking at him. The shame she wore could not be hidden. 

"Ir abelas, ma vhenan. Mala suledin nadas..."  

It was either a threat or a warning. Either way she knew he would keep his distance from her. She had no doubt this was the last time she would see him in this light.  

"Solas... all I ask is forgiveness for betraying our bond and for what I must do to protect Thedas."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven translations from Dragon Age Wiki.  
> Please let me know what you liked and where I can improve.


	5. The Fate of all Beings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leliana has a heart to heart with Maeve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bonding moments between leliana and Maeve.

Maeve awoke from her dream seeped in the melancholy she had carried over from her dream. No amount of apologies could take back the choice she had made. She chose to fight against Solas for Thedas. Now she had to pay the price for her decision, she forfeited her chance to be with him, to possibly be his bond-mate. No matter who won this war over Thedas, she would never truly win. Her heart will always have a place of desolation claiming it. 

Curling into a fetal position, Maeve wrapped herself into a tight cocoon with her bear pelt. Devastation was taking its hold on her, she knew her fate would have no happy ending. She is meant to be a glorified image of hope for the people. Being a hero was never her plan, she just wanted to keep the world from being destroyed like many others. Her power only afforded to her by mistake. She will never have freedom from the politics, she was now the scapegoat or the first line of attack depending on which side wished to use her. Tears streamed down the side of her face onto her pillow forming a cool pool of pain for her to rest against. 

This spacious bed was the most comfort Maeve would be afforded in this fucked up life of hers. Right now that is all she needed, her soft bed with her bear pelt, her second skin. Here she laid for hours, ignoring the suns struggle to force its light through the thick green curtains. No amount of light would wake her from the grief she laid with. 

There were knocks at Maeve’s door, servants coming to tell her she was needed in the war room. But they were met with no answer. She had no intention of meeting with anyone today. She had no mental or emotional room for another persons issues. Taking time to herself even in this hectic time was necessary, if she showed she was emotionally unstable, it would cause unwanted attention and worry. If she was to be in public, even in Skyhold, she needed to present a strong and sure front with all matters. 

Several more servants continued to hassle Maeve throughout the day and the next day following that, each being sent by either Leliana or Josephine. It grew to irritate her more than anything. She needed silence and space but was instead met with bombardment. The last one that knocked on her door asking for her to come and meet with Lady Nightingale got the brunt of her anger. She yelled at him, "Unless you desire to have your hand match mine, don’t disturb me again. You or anyone else!" 

It was unnecessary but Maeve didn't intend on leaving her bed and she couldn't think of any other way to make it clear they were to leave her alone. But her threat did little to stop another person from knocking at her door. She laid there in silence hoping they would go away. Waiting for a minute or so in silence she was pleasantly surprised. Hhhmmm... maybe it actually worked, she thought. 

Her idea was shot down as quickly as she thought of it, the door creaked open. She gritted her teeth as her irritation rose with each step she heard coming from the stairs. Someone was in her room and coming to get her. She kept her back towards them hoping they would see her in bed and leave seeing how indecent she was to be addressed. 

"Well, aren't you going to get up and take my arm?" The voice was prodding her. 

"If that is what you desire. My dagger is on the top my dresser, come bring it to me and I will oblige you." 

"We don’t have time for this Maeve..." The person welcomed themselves to a seat on the edge of her bed. 

Maeve turned over her face red with impatience. But once she realized it was Leliana, her anger began fleeing and instead she was perplexed. She wondered to herself, Why is Leliana here and making herself so comfortable? 

“Leliana, please let me be alone just for today." 

Leliana put her hand down on the bed, leaning over towards Maeve. “This isn’t like you, why are you crying naked in a bear pelt?" She had a mixture of confusion and concern. 

"I need time to pull myself together, I can't allow people to see me like this and I am in no mindset to make decisions especially ones involving Thedas' survival." 

"I can see that you are emotional, but you have never been like this before. What is it?” 

Leliana was no fool, she could read people almost as well as Solas could. Leliana knew Maeve almost as well as Solas. Their friendship went deeper than just their bond through the Inquisition. They would breed nugs, gossip, and hunt for fun together. Though Leliana was her spymaster, she was a highly skilled rogue. 

"I made clear whose side I am on."Maeve took a few deep breaths trying to ease herself into explaining what happened without forcing herself to relive it. 

Leliana gave a gentle nod. ”I see... And what is it you did?" Leliana knew it wasn't something Maeve said that triggered this sort of reaction. 

Maeve turned her head upwards meeting Leliana's gaze. "I stabbed him while he laid with his eyes closed." 

Leliana knew Maeve would not betray them; however, she was surprised by Maeve's actions. Maeve desired to prevent Solas from tearing down the veil but when it came to the topic of alternative methods for dealing with Solas, she would not hear of it. The fact that Maeve was able to force herself to stab Solas, gave Leliana more faith in her. This if nothing else, gave Leliana a stronger confidence in Maeve's vow to protect Thedas. Yet, Leliana couldn't help the burning question that was forcing its way through her lips. "And is he..." Leliana halted herself mid sentence, realizing she was being insensitive to Maeve's emotional predicament. 

"Dead?" Maeve’s uneasiness was becoming more apparent. The stone glare she gifted to Leliana made it clear. “No, I thought I killed him but the dreams aren’t as real as they feel. My actions were for nothing. All I have done is anger him further and pushed him away from any form of mercy he could have shown." 

"You know..." Leliana's voice was soft and endearing, like that of a mother calming a saddened child. "I will never be able to understand the extent of how you are feeling, but I promise this will not be the end of you. I do understand the pain of not being with the one you love. My lover was grey warden... I don't know if he is still alive or dead. My heart aches for him everyday, but there is something that brings me comfort at night." 

Maeve stayed silent lingering on Leliana's open ended response. 

Leliana's tone took a sudden bluntness. "Everyone dies." It was short and definitely not the inspiring line Maeve was expecting. There was no trace of the gentle tone she carried before. 

Maeve couldn’t contain the tone of irritation that blurted out. ”What the fuck Leliana? That isn't helpful at all!" Her hand flinging into the air. 

Leliana couldn’t help but laugh at her reaction, "Just listen, even though we all die, we move on to the next life. When you look up at the night sky, you will always find new stars gleaming from above. When we die we become one of those stars, and that my friend, is where I will be reunited with my love. The suffering I endure here will only make our reunion that much more extraordinary. And I believe this to be the fate all beings will be rewarded with." 

Maeve was caught off guard by Leliana's admission. What could she say to all that? The one thing she was able to take away from it was a new idea. That one day Solas and she will be reunited without the pain and conflicts they face now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leliana's viewpoint on fate was inspired by Leliana's Wiki page that mentions her and her grey warden lover.


	6. Chasind Sack Mead

"Why would King Alistair do such a thing?!" Josephine wailed. 

"Because... he is inept. He never should have been allowed to claim the throne. Yet by some twist of fate he is king nonetheless." Morrigan retorted. 

Maeve stood across the war table from her advisors. "What do we know of the situation?" 

Josephine stepped forward, "Ferelden has no intention of attaining peace with Orlais. Even with Cassandra there King Alistair believes his rule is what's best for Ferelden and Orlais. He recently sent messengers to Orlais to present terms for their surrender." 

Maeve rubbed her forehead, "And what of Orlais?" She asked in a stern voice. She was fighting to keep her focus on absorbing all of the information before reaching a conclusion. 

"We have received word from Empress Celene, she requests that you come to the winter palace at your discretion as she would greatly appreciate your input on the matter. She hopes that you will assist in finding a way to neutralize Ferelden's threat. You are a powerful figure of the people and many will answer your call over King Alistair or Empress Celene." Leliana took a deep breath, "The sooner we leave for Orlais the better in my opinion." 

Maeve nodded in agreement, "Very well, let's head out." 

"There is another matter we must address." Josephine mentioned just as Maeve was turning to leave. 

"What is it Josephine?" Maeve had asked pausing herself mid-step. 

"Empress Celene also sent word that she would like our help dealing with a camp of Ferelden mercenaries that have settled sporadically throughout the woods of Halamshiral. I suggest that you bring Sera, Cole, Iron Bull and Blackwall as they will surely be able to handle the mercenaries while we meet with Empress Celene." 

Maeve sighed. "I don't like the idea of leaving no head advisor here. If this could end the threat of war then so be it. Since we will all be gone tell Iron Bull and Krem that the Chargers will need to stay back and protect Skyhold while we are away." 

\------------------- 

Maeve thought it best that she wash up before beginning to pack anything. She knew she wasn't going to have a warm bath for the next couple days until she reached Halamshiral. Maeve's skin was a vibrant pink from all of the scrubbing. She hoped that it would somehow keep her from becoming as filthy as she knew she likely would. She packed a change of undergarments, a jug of chasind sack mead, extra darts and some elemental potions hoping Sera and Iron Bull would help her coat the darts. Her next stop was the kitchen she grabbed; rolls, dried druffalo meat and fruit enough for the journey. 

The trip was going to take longer than usual with the increased size of companions coming along. On the plus side, it meant that the watch rotation would be longer so they would alternate nights and get a bit more sleep instead of having to do watch every night. Maeve went to the stables to feed her greater Nuggalope named Tiny. He was a massive creature and drew quite a bit of attention while she rode him, but he was really quite a gentle mount that loved a good scratch on that special spot behind his ears. He didn't spook as easily as a horse, intimidate people like a dracolisk or screech like a hart. "Ugh, the sound of their cries are awful!" She shuddered at the thought. While Tiny was eating Maeve gathered the saddle and reins and stacked them in the corner waiting for him to finish before saddling him up. 

The group waited at the gate of Skyhold as Josephine and Iron Bull finished briefing Krem and the Chargers on their responsibilities while all the advisors are away. Josephine was having the hardest time leaving Skyhold. Emphasizing to Krem that he was not to drink on the job which actually meant no drinking at all. They were already traveling later than usual. At this rate, it would be night by the time they left. Bull was growing impatient with Josephine and her overly anxious behavior. Their conversation ended with Bull throwing Josephine over his shoulder and planting her on her horses saddle. When Josephine turned to snap at him but Bull was quicker than her mouth and slapped her horses ass, sending her galloping towards the snowy mountains. It was an interesting way to start off their journey. 

They made camp once the sun was setting, using the last of its light to set up camp. Josephine had already made a roster for who would be on watch. She put Leliana and herself on watch first. It was better if she had someone to help keep her awake and that had experience in combat should the need arise. Thanks to the later start of their travels, only Blackwall, Morrigan and Cole retreated into their tents. Bull, Sera and Maeve stayed by the fire cracking jokes and talking shit to each other. Maeve pulled out her flasks of potions and a smaller sack full of darts she had made. Sera and Bull watched as struggled to pop the cork off of one of the flasks. 

"Would you like a hand with that?" Bull teased emphasizing the word hand. 

Maeve smirked at him, "I don't know, are you sure you can even see the cork blind man?" She waived the bottle in front of the eye patch covering his left eye. 

"Oh give it here you crippled Arsehats!" Sera said snatching the bottle from Maeve's hand. 

They laughed at their stupid jokes like a bunch of kids. "I expect double the amount of darts finished on your part. You are the only whole one in this little crippled circle of ours." Maeve jested. They stayed up till the middle of the night coating darts and talking shit like they used to. 

The graceful rays of sunrise would have been a nice way to be awaken. Josephine had a different approach to waking them up. She went around shaking each of them awake while berating them. "You all should have gone to sleep earlier, it is time to leave and you all are still sleeping!" 

"Ugh, shut it Josie, we're getting up." Sera murmured irritatedly. 

Bull sat up and added to Sera's remark, "And unless you want to be tossed on your horse again, you would do well to make me breakfast before waking me up like this." Bull gave Josephine a mischievous smirk that forced Josephine's soft tan skin to a burning red. His response was quite effective, as Josephine stormed away to finish saddling her horse. 

Maeve was too tired to argue for either side. She sat herself up and began packing away all the darts and potion bottles they used last night. Thankfully they had coated all the darts she had on her. Never hurts to be prepared, she thought to herself. She carried all her things over to Tiny packing her small sack into one of the saddlebags before climbing onto Tiny's back. 

The day was spent trudging through the last of the snowy mountain range. They would camp once they got to the Emerald Graves. It would be a half days ride from there to Halamshiral. It was already becoming a long, boring day just sitting on their mount's backs. Luckily Tiny's body was broad enough for Maeve to lay her head down on the back of his neck letting her arm fall to the side of his body. With each step she felt the tied up jug of chasind sack mead swing against her hand. 

A mischievous grin grew on her face as she pulled the jug of alcohol from her saddlebag. She held it tightly between her thighs as she pulled out the cork. She lifted the jug to her mouth taking two big gulps before immediately putting it down on her legs. She shook her head from side to side as the strong sting of the alcohol burned down her throat. 

Once the burn had faded Maeve had lifted the jug towards her mouth again but was met with Sera's burning stare and pursed lips. "You know Red Jenny doesn't like the greedy!" 

Maeve couldn't help but laugh at Sera's seriousness. "Here." Maeve giggled tossing it Sera. "For you letting me keep my greedy hand." 

Sera swung the jug to her lips, swallowing down the sweet heat of the mead. Her face flushed once she felt the burning of the alcohol. "What the shit is this?!" 

"Chasind Sack Mead, it tastes sweet for the first second and leaves you with a harsh bite after. You can thank me later." Maeve teased. 

"Sera while your still crying about it, why don't you pass it this way, I could use a drink." 

Sera passed it to Bull who chugged a good amount from the jug before tossing it to Blackwall. 

The four of them passed it around until the jug was empty of every last drop. Sera and Maeve were quite drunk while Bull and Blackwall had only gotten a bit tipsy. Their tolerance was clearly much higher than Sera and Maeve's. Morrigan had Sera double up on her mount. Leliana hopped on Tiny's back steering him while Maeve laid herself over the back of Tiny's wide neck. Josephine had been tasked with holding the reins of Morrigan and Leliana's horses. 

Leliana let Maeve sleep until they had found camp. Leliana woke Maeve up, giving her a waterskin to drink down. Maeve had a roaring headache but at least she wasn't bored anymore. She got off Tiny's back and went into her saddlebag pulling out a few pieces of dried druffalo meat and two rolls before sitting herself in front of the fire. 

She paid no attention to the shuffling feet of her companions setting up camp. When she looked over to her right Sera was sprawled over the ground, drool leaking down the side over her mouth as she snored. Maeve smiled at the sight before returning to eat her dried druffalo meat. That is until she caught Josephine's attention. Josephine strode over to her with aggressive strides, stopping herself inches away from where Maeve had planted herself. "May I have a word with you?" Josephine had no interest in hiding her irritation. 

Maeve already knew she was going to receive Josephine's wrath from the moment she packed the jug of alcohol. Maeve looked up to the greeting of Josephine's angered expression. If her brows were furrowed any tighter they would become one. She pursed her lips so intensely that they were no thicker than a piece of scrap leather. "Of course Josephine." Maeve said while lifting herself from the ground. Josephine lead the way to where the mounts were resting, a few yards away from camp. 

"What are you doing?" Josephine snapped, throwing her hands in the air. 

Maeve was taken aback by the sudden change in tone, "I had a drink Josephine. You were angry with me before we even left Skyhold." 

"Yes Maeve, I have been angry with you. Let's see, you lock yourself in your chambers for two days refusing to speak to anyone, you stay up all night playing with your darts, and today you got too drunk to even steer your mount! Do you not realize the serious matter at hand?" Josephine's voice was raised loud enough for the other to hear her. Even though they could hear Josephine, they kept putting together the camp, acting like there was no argument happening. 

After all Maeve had done and sacrificed for Thedas, she couldn't even be granted time to herself or for a drink! Everyone one else including Josephine could take time off and have time for their pleasures but Maeve was not afforded the same benefit. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to resist the urge to raise her voice. "Yes, I understand why we are going to Halamshiral." 

"Then why do you act like you don't care what is at stake? You have yet to brief anyone on what they are going to be doing." Josephine's voice lowered to a softer tone. "You are our friend but right now, we need you to lead." 

Maeve let out a sigh, Josephine was right. She was not up to par with how she would usually handle these matters. No amount of jokes or alcohol would change that. "I am sorry Josephine. I will handle the matter with more care and I will start by briefing everyone on what their parts will be for what is to come tomorrow. " 

"Thank you Maeve." 

They both walked back to the campsite where Maeve called for them to join her and Josephine around the fire. Once everyone was present Maeve started the briefing. 

"The jokes and games end here. We will arrive in Halamshiral by tomorrow afternoon. We are going to split up into two groups. Sera, Blackwall, Cole and Bull you four are going to search the perimeter for camps of mercenaries sent from Ferelden. Give them a chance to leave peacefully and if they refuse, cut them down and destroy their camp." 

"You got it Boss." Bull said nodding his head. 

"Morrigan, Leliana, Josephine and I will meet with Empress Celene to see what we can do about Ferelden's threat. We will try to find another way around war if possible. And with that everyone is to go to their tents and rest immediately, we need to be rested and ready for tomorrow. I will take the last watch so the rest of you may sleep a little longer."


	7. Under one Condition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter on the calmer side, from here on out the chapters will be more graphic in language or violence. But for now, it is time to have a nice peaceful dinner with Empress Celene... er, something of that sort. haha

Abelas stepped out of the eluvian into an ancient secluded elven ruin. Lush deep green vines with dark purple and blue flowers sporadically bloomed along the walls. A row of veilfires with their vibrant green color lit every room of the ruin. As he walked through the hall entering the main room, he was greeted by fellow elven agents. There were more agents and elves coming by the day. He greeted the agents back with a slight nod as he made his way to a thick wooden door at the end of the room. Abelas knocked on the door and waited for a response.  
"Enter" answered the voice inside.

Abelas walked in making sure the door was closed behind him. He walked up to a long wooden table that was covered with reports and books containing ancient elven spells. Abelas stood waiting until he was addressed.

Solas put his quill down, leaving the attention to his report to avert his attention to Abelas. "What news do you bring?"

"Threats of war between Orlais and Ferelden are giving these city elves the push they need to follow your call. They are coming from all over and welcome your protection." Abelas stood stiff and stone faced as always. 

"Good. Protect them I shall."

Abelas gave a slight nod in agreeance.

"Make sure our agents and healers are at the eluvians. Many will seek refuge here once they see the sky tearing opening."

"It shall be done."

"That will be all for now."

"As you wish Fen'Harel..." Abelas gave a low bow before leaving the small dark room. 

\--------------- 

Bull pushed himself off the tree he was leaning against, stretching out his arms and legs. His muscles had stiffened a bit from sitting in the same place for the past three hours. He walked a couple yards over to their camp heading for Sera and Maeve's tent since it was Maeve's watch next. He leaned his head down trying not to let his horns get caught on the entrance of the tent. It seemed to be a common occurrence for him and these small tents. 

Maeve was sleeping on her side snoring loudly. Between her and Blackwall he couldn't believe anyone was able to sleep. Bull gently shook Maeve's shoulder whispering to her that it was her turn for watch. 

After rubbing both her eyes for a moment she sat up and started getting dressed in her armor. Bull left and went to his tent to get what rest he could before they had to leave camp. Maeve saw a couple low hanging tree a couple yards away. She walked over to them sitting herself against the trunk of one of the trees letting its branches hide her away from view. She sat there thinking of possible ways to de-escalate this situation between Ferelden and Orlais. With all that is going on the last thing the people needed was another war. Both sides recognized her as a strong neutral figure surely there was a way for her to use that to her favor.

With her mind busy thinking of possibilities and solutions the time had quicker than she expected. The rising sun was her signal that her watch was over. She headed back to camp waking her companions. They packed up camp as soon as they could. They still had a few hours ride till they would reach Halamshiral.

With the suns soft early light they rode off towards Halamshiral. They pushed their mounts harder than they had the past two days but they will have the chance to rest and feed once they reached the palace. They had been riding for a couple hours when they came across the first mercenary camp on the other side the shallow river bank ahead of them.

Maeve turned to her companions, "We must be close to the palace. Bull you will lead Blackwall, Sera and Cole. Give the mercenaries a chance to leave before using force. We need to try and keep our neutral standing with both sides if possible."

Bull's posture stiffened on his horse, "We can handle this Boss."

"Once you all have secured the area regroup with us at the Winter Palace."

"Will do." Bull turned facing their companions, "Let's go handle these mercenaries." Bull's horse took off leading the way towards the camp.

Maeve watched for a moment with concern, she had never sent her companions on a mission without her. She trusted their capability but felt slight guilt for not staying to help them. She turned Tiny around the river trying to give herself more space between her and the mercenary camp. They continued riding on until they reached the grand front gates of the Winter Palace.

It would be an understatement to say Maeve was surprised to see Briala standing in front of the entrance to the palace. It wasn't customary for a Spymaster to greet guests; however, this was not a usual circumstance for their visit. Briala waited for them in an olive green dress with bold gold trimming, still wearing the ever so common mask everyone wore. The dress was an elegant one, one that only royalty would be able afford. Maeve wasn't sure how she should she should feel about seeing Briala again after everything that had happened before. Solas had told Maeve the last time she ever saw him in person that he had dealt with Briala.

"Good day, I hope you traveled well. I apologize that Empress Celene is not here to greet you herself, she is at the moment but shall join us this evening. You must be weary from your travels. We have rooms prepared for your stay so that you may rest and wash up before meeting with the Empress in the great hall for dinner. My handmaiden Lani, will show you to your rooms."

They followed Lani to the second floor where she lead each of the ladies to their rooms. Morrigan's and Josephine's rooms were at the left end of the hall next to each others while Leliana's and Maeve's was on the right end of the wing.

Maeve's room was bigger than her room back at Skyhold which surprised her considering she has a tower for her quarters. She walked through her room giving herself a tour eyeing all the gaudy furniture and elegantly intricate fabrics that covered her bed and the windows to her balcony. The walls were embellished with portraits of Andraste and prior rulers of Orlais. The artworks lined the walls of the room and as Maeve followed them, she found a door against the same wall the bed was against.

The door lead into a smaller separate room for bathing. It was a room filled with tall unlit candles, blankets rich in warms red and gold hues, and a variety of delectably scented soaps. Orlesian soaps were the only elaborate thing she appreciated the orlesians for. She started opening bottle after bottle until she found one that enticed her. The scent was of honey and lavender, it was sweet and earthy, and the more she inhaled it the calmer it made her feel.

Why not indulge myself a little... she thought to herself. The bath had already been filled with hot water, most likely a preparation they made for them when they got there. Maeve lit the candles around the tub creating a soothing ambiance. Stepping into the tub, Maeve opened the yellow vial that emitted the sweet, harmonious scent of honey and lavender. Grabbing the small saturated sponge, Maeve gently wiped away the residue that still clung to her pale frame. Attempting to be as thorough as possible, making sure to get under her nails and behind her sharp elven ears. Her hair needed attention as well, separating it into sections as to find and remove all the blades of grass and clumps of dirt from her hair before scrubbing it vigorously with soap.

The scent of honey and lavender clung to Maeve even as she wrapped herself in a blanket drying herself off to prepare for her meeting with Empress Celene. When she walked through the doorway back into her main room she was surprised to see a dress placed on her bed. It was not there before but no doubt Lani was probably order to leave it for her. Maeve had no interest in the dress but she needed to show respect not just to the Empress but also for the culture of Orlais. The dress was much simpler than what Briala had on earlier. The dress was a snowy white with gentle blue embroidery around the hems. It went all the way to the floor and covered her long, slender arms. It was very modest which she felt grateful for considering all the other women wore dresses so low cut that their nipples were sliding out half the time.

She left her room heading down the stair and to the great hall. When she arrived everyone else was there except for the Empress who would make her grand entrance at diner. Briala rushed over to Maeve before she had a chance to greet Leliana, Morrigan or Josephine.

"Oh Inquisitor, you look beautiful! I would be absolutely delighted if you would grace me with a seat beside you as we dine." Briala's voice was skeptically friendly.

Maeve couldn't help the awkward expression her face portrayed but she didn't feel that saying no was truly an option. Briala had politically cornered her with this public display. "Of course Briala, there is no one I would rather have the company of sitting with."

Maeve hoped her words didn't sound as disingenuous as she felt.

Briala weaved her arm around Maeve's arm leading her into the great hall while Josephine, Morrigan and Leliana followed at a slight distance. Josephine and Morrigan had perplexed looks on their faces but Leliana was no fool. Leliana sensed Briala's behavior was duplicitous and calculated. Leliana turned to Josephine and Morrigan keeping her voice as low as possible while still ensuring they could hear her. "Something is not right. Briala is behaving strangely. Don't you find it suspicious that she is clinging to Maeve? For someone who was done wrong by Solas, she appears unphased."

"I am as surprised as you." Morrigan replied.

"I shall sit by Briala, maybe my presence will intimidate her from whatever it is she is trying to do." With that Leliana strode up to the seat right next to where Briala had sat with Maeve.  
Leliana sat down at the table turning her head towards Briala with a condescending grin, "I hope you don't mind if I join you both."

"Not at all Lady Nightingale." Briala said smirking at Leliana.

The doors to the great hall burst open one guard pushing each door wide. On the other end of the doors was Empress Celene. Her ball gown was of the deepest violet with only the vibrant white diamonds trickling down the top of her dress as they framed her soft, pale decolletage down to her supple cleavage. She gracefully paced through the dining room making her way to the head of the long dining table. The guard rushing to keep up with her long steps. He pulled out the Empress' chair and left once she had settled herself at the table. Morrigan and Josephine were on her right while Briala, Maeve and Leliana sat to her left.

Empress Celene smiled while addressing her guests, "Thank you all for coming on such short notice. We appreciate any assistance the Inquisition is able to offer us in response to Ferelden."

"It is an honor your Majesty" Josephine responded.

Servants littered the dining hall placing down plates of food in front of them and filling their glasses with the best Orlesian wines.

"It has come to my attention that it was your idea Inquisitor to have Divine Victoria conduct peace talks with King Alistair only days before he sent mercenaries to surround my palace."

Maeve was beginning to feel slightly nervous at the way Empress Celene had worded her comment. "Yes, that is correct. I had hoped that by having the Divine personally address King Alistair that he would be more willing to reconsider his notions for war. Taking into account how devout he has become these last few years."

"Yet, he still hasn't withdrawn..." The Empress' voice was cold and sharp. Maeve had not expected hugs and laughter but the Empress seemed cross with her and for what reason Maeve wasn't sure.

"No, it would seem he hasn't." Maeve paused for a moment clearing her throat, hoping that it would somehow help cut through the tension of the conversation. "I believe that if we give the Divine more time to talk with King Alistair that you both could come to more permanent peaceful terms. An idea we considered was that a few arranged marriages and some contracts for trading good on both side will open better communication and financial wealth for both your nations. As for the arranged marriages it could be anyone you deem so long as they have high political stature. The same would go for King Alistair. You both shall keep your rule over your own kingdoms but still have well meaning interest in the strength of the other. The high status marriages will help to ensure the both benefit." Maeve grabbed her glass of wine intending to take a sip but nerves got the best of her and she didn't stop drinking until her glass had emptied. When Maeve put down her empty glass and looked up, Josephine was eyeing her irritatedly from across the table.

"Well Inquisitor, I believe those are terms that I can agree to."

"That is wonderful to hear your Highness! If you would like, I could write up the terms after our meal." Josephine offered with excitement.

"One moment dear Josephine..." Celene countered looking over at Josephine. "I am willing to offer these terms under one condition..." Celene's gaze quickly averted to Maeve on the other side of the table.  
This was not a look Maeve had ever seen on Empress Celene before, her gaze was fierce and pressing. She smirked but the emotion behind her expression oozed a twisted sort of entertainment from the reaction she was expecting to receive. "The Inquisitor shall sign a contract pledging her allegiance to Orlais. This will be as a precaution, should King Alistair refuse my terms and continue his warpath. We already have a contract prepared declaring that any persons who has given their loyalty to the Inquisition may be called to arms by Orlais should I deem it necessary."

The level in Josephine's voice matched that of her shock. "Your Highness that is a substantial request! The Inquisition no longer exists and the few people who remain work as a neutral party with no political claim. The Inquisitor is neutral in this war between Ferelden and Orlais. To promise all Inquisition loyalists to Orlais would be seen as highly unorthodox."

"Josephine you mistake what the Empress means." Leliana's arms were crossed tightly over her chest glaring at Empress Celene. Her voice carried a gruff tone as she spoke. "She is not asking us."


	8. Lick the Spoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maeve was better off putting Cassandra on the damn throne.

Maeve was finishing her second glass of wine when she realized everyone's eyes averted back to her from their current shock at Empress Celene's statement. Fighting she can do, acting as a mediator she can do, playing "the game" she couldn't do. Empress Celene has her throne only because Maeve allowed her to keep it. Yet she has the audacity to demand Maeve to sign over authority of Inquisition and its loyalists. With this turn of events and considering what she knows now, Maeve was better off putting Cassandra on the damn throne. Cassandra has royal blood and isn't an arrogant aristocrat like Gaspard or Celene have proven to be. At this rate even the wine wasn't worth this shitshow. Although another glass wouldn't hurt, Maeve thought to herself. 

She lifted her empty glass signaling the servant to come and fill her cup again. When the servant was topping off her glass Maeve leaned in towards her attempting to be inconspicuous even with everyone staring at her. "I think at this point it is safer to just leave me the bottle." The servant was startled but slightly relieved since that meant he had an excuse to leave, escaping from the thick tension that filled the room. 

"Inquisitor is there anything you wish to say?" Briala said with a wide condescending smile that was far too large for her face. Briala was intensely enjoying watching Maeve squirm in her chair. 

Open wide Briala, for those who stir the shit pot shall lick the spoon. Maeve thought to herself, a snide smirk climbed its way up her face. "Yes, but not to Celene... Why are you here Briala? What business would you and the Empress possibly have outside of the bedroom? I mean you are the supposed, "Spymaster" but you seem to fail your duties quite frequently. First the ordeal with Gaspard and then you lose control of the eluvians. You can't even protect your own passphrase to a mirror let alone a person." Maeve allowed her tongue to go wild. A viper within her mouth. Sights set on its prey unaware of the lethal bite it would endure. Briala had been testing Maeve's patience and now she would feel the bite and taste the venom Maeve had to offer. 

Maeve was successful striking the nerve of not just Briala but Celene's as well. They have been past the fake pleasantries for a while now, Maeve was the only one willing to make it clear. Even with a mask Briala was unable to hide the red fury burning inside her, searing its way through her pale skin revealing the red flame that had ignited within her. "How dare you speak like that! You think-" 

"Briala!" Celene interjected with a strident tone. Recognizing the intensity of her voice, Celene took a deep breath attempting to compose herself. "Inquisitor please forgive my brashness. I mean only to protect my people should Ferelden pursue its warpath. Clearly we will not make any progress on the matter tonight. Tomorrow I will be addressing the Orlesian people about Ferelden's threat and I hope to have your answer before then." Empress Celene stood from her seat and strode out of the great hall. Briala emerged quickly from her seat following Celene closely out of the Dining Hall. 

Maeve slouched in her chair drinking her newly filled glass of wine. "So Morrigan..." Maeve began. "any thoughts?" 

Crossing her arms over her chest, Morrigan stayed silent gathering her thoughts. "I think you should stop with the wine if anything. You are about to single handedly sabotage us." 

"Speaking out as brashly as you did is unacceptable. You are about to make Orlais our enemy instead of ally. The contract is a safety precaution for Celene. Publicly backing Celene terms of peace could be the deciding factor for whether or not Ferelden still hungers for war. Maeve this is more important than your pride, sign the damn contract!" Josephine demanded before storming out of the Hall. 

"It is getting late and we should get some rest before Empress Celene's speech tomorrow. I suggest you do the same." Morrigan gave a slide nod of her head and left to her room. 

"And what about you Leliana? Have I crossed you as well?" Regret had begun swelling in Maeve from her viper of a tongue. She allowed herself to get distracted from the issue at hand bringing venomous words instead of peaceful terms. 

Leliana leaned forward into her seat resting her arms on the table as she looked over to Maeve with a doleful expression. Her voice carried a solemn timbre as she addressed Maeve. "I know you are still hurting from what happened with Solas, but alcohol and reckless words aren't going to change what has happened. Celene's condition infuriates me as well; however, I agree with Josephine on this. Cassandra having peace talks to King Alistair isn't enough. That is clear to see with his terms of surrender he sent to Celene. But if you, the Inquisitor, were to publicly align yourself with Celene on her path for peace King Alistair might reconsider. The Inquisition is a powerful entity to align with. Celene agreed to our suggestions for peace, all she asks is for ensured support should Alistair refuse. I am telling you this as your Spymaster and your friend, sign the contract." 

Maeve swallowed back the taste of disappointment that filled her mouth. They were all right, she allowed the alcohol and pride have priority. "I'm sorry Leliana, I will make this right, you have my word." 

\---------------- 

Maeve knocked on the door of Celene's chambers. It was no surprise that it was Briala of all people who would answer the door.   
"Well look who we have here. Have you come for a second round Inquisitor?" Briala taunted before opening the door to let Maeve inside before closing it behind her.   
Maeve ignored Briala's remark; after all, it was Celene whom Maeve needed to fix things with. Briala has been condescending since the moment Maeve had arrive, clearly she was still sour from her dealings with Solas. Maeve knew that if Solas didn't trust Briala than she shouldn't either. 

Maeve walked over to desk Celene was sitting waiting for Celene to make eye contact before addressing her. Once Celene left her standing there for what seemed like ten minutes, Celene eventually afforded Maeve a displeased expression. Maeve tried to ignore the expression on Celene's face, she needed to make things right and deserved the glares she received. "Your Highness, I apologize for my behavior this evening, I took your condition as a threat instead of the precaution you see necessary." Maeve kept her voice calm and sincere trying to prove she still had good intentions for this meeting. 

Celene let out a sigh before waiving an open palm toward one of the empty chairs on the other side of her desk. "Please join me Inquisitor. Briala pour the Inquisitor a glass of wine from my collection and join us." Celene ordered nonchalantly. 

Briala walked to the bedside table where two glasses and an opened bottle of wine had been set. With the wine bottle in one hand and two glasses in the other, Briala ambled back over to the desk where Celene and Maeve sat. Briala poured the first glass of wine and slid it over to Maeve. 

"Thank you Briala." Maeve said before taking a sip. "I spoke with my advisors after your departure." 

"Is that so?" Celene ask as her interest was piqued. "And what did they say?" 

"You have agreed to try our suggestion for a truce with Ferelden. If you desire a contract with the Inquisition as a precaution for Ferelden's aggression, I will oblige." 

A smile grew over Celene's face as she turned to pull out the contract from her desk drawer and slid it over towards Maeve. "I am glad to hear that you see my intentions are for the Protection of my people." Maeve retrieved a quill from the inkwell sitting upon Celene's desk, signing her signature at the bottom of the long pristine piece of parchment. The moment the quill left the contract Celene snatched it into her hands, eyeing Maeve's signature as if it was gold. 

"Let us raise a toast to peace." Celene said blissfully picking up her full glass of wine, as Briala and Maeve followed her lead, clicking them together. 

"To peace." Maeve said smiling before finishing off her glass. "Thank you for the wine but I should return to my chambers. I will be there for your grand announcement to the people." But when Maeve went to stand up her legs did not react. Maeve hadn't noticed that the lower half of her body had become paralyzed. When she looked to the wine glasses on the desk, Celene and Briala's glasses were full. Maeve had made a fatal mistake. She looked over to Briala with a suspicious glance, "What did you give me?" 

Briala rose from her seat with a wide sneer on her face, "Why Inquisitor, I am about to show you why I am really here." Briala grabbed the bottle of poisoned wine off the desk slamming it into Maeve's brow bone, knocking her unconscious. 

\------------------- 

"Check the buckles again, we can't allow her to wriggle out of them." 

"She has one arm, and the poison is still in effect..." 

"Just do it. Briala will not show mercy for any mistake." 

"Yes sir." 

Maeve was regaining her consciousness when she heard the guards talking. She was unable to sense any part of her body. Her eyes trapped her in darkness like the thick cascading curtains that guarded against the suns vibrant golden rays. She couldn't move, see or speak but she hear. Her sense of panic began taking hold. No one would know where she was or what was happening to her. Just like ashes that get whisked away from the caressing breeze, she would undoubtedly disappear without a trace.

The surrounding voices continued talking above her unaware of her consciousness. They were unaware of the Intel they were providing her should she make it out alive. From what she was able to gather they were both Briala's agents. Briala and Celene were working together, to lure her here.

Maeve's mind was racing trying to retain and put together a reason for why they would want to imprison her. Her train of thought was broken by fluid being poured into the back of her throat. With her oxygen being cut off, there was the only one guess that made sense. They wouldn't go through all the trouble of strapping her down just to suffocate her to death. The agents were forcing her body to swallow the concoction. It wasn't until she was able to gasp for air that she realized they had gotten her to ingest the potion. "Swallow." One of the agents commanded. 

It only took a few moments for Maeve to start gaining back her senses. The potion continued to work throughout Maeve's body, starting from her head flowing its way down to her toes. As the numbness began fading welcoming Maeve to the raging headache, no doubt a gift from Briala. As Maeve slowly regained the ability to use her eyes, she could distinguish multiple blurry objects moving about the room that must be Briala's agents.

Her gaze dropped to the floor and her eyes focused on the worn stone blocks that made up the floor and appeared to be stained a deep reddish black. Buckets filled with water lined the walls of the cell. The thick stone walls wore the stains of prisoners past. Some of the stains were clearly blood while many others she was unable to make out. There was one door she could see to her right side, it was made of thick wood with abrades carved sporadically into its surface. They were thin and various, almost like scratch marks, a personal imprint left from prisoners of the past. This cell was their oversized coffin. Their attempts were futile from what she could tell from the strong structure the door still held. As she looked up again she saw a low vaulted ceiling that had seen better days. There was a flicker of torches and an intermittent drip of water, probably from the glistening moss that clung from cracks in the aging cellar, such a place couldn't possibly be above ground. The scent of stale air filled the dark damp room. 

Maeve was finally able to recognize the blobs that had since ceased their wandering. There were only two of them, both elven men, one was an older lanky figure hidden behind a well worn brown cloak. The other wasn't much younger, but was covered with scars that criss-crossed his broad stalky body. He wore a mask, dark leggings and boots but had no shirt on. As if he was proud of the abstract design that coated his body. 

Maeve's observances did not go unnoticed. The larger elf met her gaze, the gaze in his eyes portrayed a cynical being. What unsettled Maeve further was the expression he wore. He was smiling at her, baring his teeth, and slight wrinkles appeared at the outer corner of his eyes. It was a smile laced with malice. He was entertained by her imprisonment. His face masked with amusement like that of a child who had been given a piece of cake. The twisted smile too big for the natural limitation of his lips. 

He made his intent clear when he stepped to the head of the table where Maeve's head was jerking her head backwards by her hair. The belt around her neck and body held her in place for the most part. The slight adjustment he was able to get scrapped the back of her body upon the short needles of the splintering table. Maeve attempted to grit her teeth but was instead halted by a wide leather strap holding her mouth open. She had been too consumed with observing her surroundings to notice the strap in her mouth. "She has regained physical sensitivity."

"Good..." The older elf replied. "grab one of the buckets and we shall begin."


	9. So Tell me Inquisitor...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW - Water boarding Torture

The older elf slowly paced towards Maeve pulling out a large piece of cotton cloth from the edge of the table she lay upon. "I am sure you must be quite thirsty after all that wine." Scoffing as he laid the cloth over her face covering her mouth as well as her eyes. Even though the fabric was somewhat thick, Maeve was still able to make out the faint shadow of the man standing over her. The old elf's hands gripped each side of her head holding the fabric in place.    
   
Maeve could hear the steps of the other elf coming towards her. He left no time between the pause of his steps to pouring a steady flow of water onto the cotton fabric over her mouth. With the leather strap forcing her mouth open, Maeve was unable to avoid the intrusion of water as it struck against the back of her throat. Panic was weaved its way through her body following the flow of water intruding her lungs. Like the roots of a sprouting seed, imposing itself upon the defenseless dirt diving deeper into the ground. The water charged its way through her throat causing her to choke under its pressure. Any water she was able to cough out quickly replenished itself with more.   

  
A trail of coughs and gasps gave her a split second of hope. If she is able to gasp, she is able to get air. Meaning the bucket of water must have emptied. Gathering the puny bit of energy she could muster, she jerked her head to each side fighting to free the cloth that buried her face beneath its dim icy hold. Between the tight leather straps and the wet cloth clasped against her face, Maeve found no relief just more disappointment. The scrap of cotton was unquenchable, the water that clung to its fibers was not enough; it craved every breath her lungs fought to claim. 

  
Hope has a way of being truly cruel sometimes; it lets you believe there is a chance when deep down, you know there is not. The theory of hope is a trick, one used to keep yourself from facing the inevitable truth lying before you. Oceans in a desert, true loves kiss, or peace throughout Thedas; it is all a mirage. A delusion. A lie.

     
There was to be no hope, no mercy, at least not for Maeve as she was swiftly met with the steady flow from another bucket. The icy water lapping against the back of her warm throat once more, filling her mouth with its cold unwelcome presence. Her choking fits began again. Breathing through her mouth was not an option, she had learned that now. Maeve clenched the muscles inside her throat attempting to keep herself from coughing anymore than she was. If she couldn't breathe through her mouth, maybe she could through her nose.   

  
Maeve inhaled deeply, anxious for the dry, weightless air. But the cotton cloth covering her face was wet, storing water within its thirsty fibers. There was no dry air to fill her lungs, instead there was more water awaiting. The wet cloth clung tightly to her nostrils as she inhaled the moisture from the fabric. The moisture imparted a stinging sensation through her nose. Startled by the wetness flowing up her nose, Maeve attempted to exhale the water back out but the fabric had already adhered itself to her nostrils. Both airways now burdened by the increasing weight of water.  

  
The sound of her pants and coughs were gradually becoming quiet. It was hard to tell whether the man had slid his grasp over her ears or if she was losing her senses again. With the noise around her growing more muffled; it gave way to a ringing sound. Though faint at first, it rapidly surpassed the sounds of her surrounding. The ringing that had was once mildly noticeable was growing rampant, the pitch drilled into her ears. All other senses were lost, there was no competing with its demanding presence. Maeve had heard this loud ringing once before, the sound was all too familiar. The thought triggered flashbacks of Heaven. The ballista, Corypheus, the avalanche, and then black. The flashback faded stealing Maeve's consciousness with it.     
   
For those few sacred moments Maeve's world was a numb, black, and silent. To many it would sound frightening like something from a nightmare. She prayed for such a release once more, anything that would free her from these leather bonds, from these sadistic creatures, from this suffering she must endure. Although, she couldn't have been unconscious for more than a few minutes, waking at all meant it would never be long enough.   

  
It was the crash of a fist into her stomach that woke Maeve from her dark daze. She didn't know how many times she had been struck but from the soreness of her stomach, it was surely more than once. The wet cotton cloth was gone from view, the leather straps around her neck and barring her mouth were gone as well. The force from the blows caused her to vomit. Maeve's head jerked to the side as she threw up, fluids raging against her insides. The taste of acidic water burned its way through her body as she hacked and heaved the fluid back out of her mouth. She hurled all the water out until all she was left with was a raw searing pain running from her stomach up to her throat. Her body was drained of energy, her very essence hollow.  

   
Even with the burning sensation ravaging her insides, Maeve felt conflicting sensations upon her skin. Goosebumps patterned her cold pale flesh. The bumps so numerous, she could feel the cool sporadic drops of water trying to descend the gentle curves of her body. The leather belts did nothing to keep her body still as her body trembled like a tambourine. Maeve wasn't sure whether she was shaking from how cold she was or if it was possibly from fear. Exhaustion had settled in leaving her with limp breaths.   

  
An abrupt gasp escaped chapped quivering lips, body recoiling from the painful tightness in her chest. The sound of Briala's voice echoed throughout the cell, ricocheting her condescending tone off the abrasive stone walls. Maeve had been unaware of her presence until then. She heard the sound of Briala's voice but had missed the words laced within it.   

  
Briala stood at the foot of the table, dressed in a modest black dress with a silver woven sash wrapped around the waist of her slender figure. Removing her smooth silver mask, she paraded the spark of pleasure that glistened in her eyes. A bilious smile planted upon her lips matching that of her intent. Purple hues and goose skin intermittently covering what was once lovely pale skin. Honey cased lips now adorned a purple tint with crimson cracks etching through the once gentle creases. Bruises and varying cuts marked the right side of her face starting from the crown of her dark wet hairline down her brow bone to the middle of her now sunken cheek. The only protection Maeve still had was that of her clothing, her undergarments and the now sheer wet white dress clinging to her weak, pathetic frame.    
   
A caress of slender fingers touched the tips of her icy calloused toes. He soft pads of Briala's fingertips followed the path of Maeve weak limbs. Leisurely walking the length of the table allowing her fingers to follow her pace over each raw and shivering curve Maeve had to offer. Maeve felt disturbed and relieved at the same time. The warmth of her touch soothed her cold frail skin alleviating the cool sting that had settled into her skin. But Maeve knew this act was not one of kindness. Briala's expression only grew more blissful as she continued her caress up the sensitive nerves of Maeve's neck until she reached the cuts and bruises of her own making. With the numerous raised cuts and scabs, Briala's touch lost its calming essence. The area still tender and fresh, Maeve's face must have felt like that of a burlap sack, abrasive in texture.   

   
Briala's dark smile took a more petulant expression as she stood at the head of the table staring down into Maeve's sullen green eyes. "It appears you have chosen the wrong side my dear." An arch raised in her left eyebrow telling of her amusement. "I was right to have advised Celene to summon you here." Enthusiasm shown through her hands, stroking and twirling Maeve's long damp hair. Each new section of hair parted and twisted following the flow of Briala's words.   

  
"You presented a clever solution to our Ferelden problem and in the end submitted your power over the Inquisition loyalists to Celene. You would have inevitably had to choose a side as the war progressed. Although, you did surprise me at dinner last night with the quickness of your tongue."   

  
Wisps of loosely tied cinnamon hair tickled against Maeve's sickly skin. Soft cushion lips danced along the lobe of her ear as Briala whispered to her. "You are not Solas' forgotten lover, like you pretend to be. For it wasn't until after the defeat of Corypheus that access to the eluvians were taken from me. So tell me Inquisitor..." 

    
Maeve felt Briala's once gentle twirling of hair turn into a hungry grasp. It clenched tightly in the tangles of her hair, nails clawing their way into her scalp. Briala was toying with her. A cat with a ball of yarn. Trying to unwind the thickly woven strands that layered upon each other creating an interwoven map. A gritty tone pushed its way through Briala's throat. "Where is Solas?"     
   
Scattered drops of water was the only sound breaking through the dense silence of the room as they fell from the mossy cracks in the ceiling slapping rebelliously against the stained stone floor. The soreness of Maeve's throat limited her speech. Breathing hurt enough, words would only elevate the pain. If Maeve was to answer Briala it had better be worth the small amount of energy, she had left. Maeve knew nothing more than where Solas called for her to meet him to where she would have taken her place by his side.   

  
Pink pigments expanded over her face claiming the small amount of fair skin left untainted. Water filled her eyes, tears forcing their escape over the brim of her lashes. She was no longer a care for Solas, she is nothing more than a coward who stabbed him while his eyes were shut. A traitor to her own heart. Her tears only fueled her resolve, if Solas was to be betrayed, it would not be by her... not again.   

  
A weak yelp fell from Maeve's trembling lips the strain of pain increasing as she forced faint raspy words from her throat. "There will be no salvation for those who do not hear his call." Maeve didn't know whether Solas would succeed or not, she could not foretell the future. No matter the outcome her heart would be torn apart, that is if she ever survived to see the winner.   

  
The brittle strands of patience Briala had been cut by Maeve's rebellious remark. Briala's growled in response, yanking Maeve's head up by her hair as far as the leather straps would allow before slamming the back of her head against the coarse wooden table. The force so strong it sent a throbbing sensation to her backside and chest. A cracked cry of pain forced its way through her aching lungs. "Get her off the table. Celene wishes to address the traitor." Briala commanded as she turned on her heels striding out of the cellar, leaving the door open in her wake. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, I hope this chapter was intense and disturbing.  
> The water boarding method and the effects that were played out on my character were inspired by actual recorded accounts I found on the web. Please let me know if you are interested in more chapters like this :)


	10. The Sentencing

Many people traveled from all over Orlais to hear the Empress speak. The courtyard of the Winter Palace teeming with people piling on top of one another like a colony of ants. Everyone pushing and wriggling to get a good spot to see the gallows that was brought in that morning. It had been quite some time since they had seen a public execution. They were eager to see the show Celene set up.

Morrigan, Josephine and Leliana stood among the people in the courtyard. They huddled closely together as there was not much space permitted with such a crowd. The sight of the gallows set Leliana's stomach into a tight, twisting mess of knots.

If Celene's objective was to address her citizens about Ferelden's threat and the current stance of the empire, there was no purpose for the gallows. There was a discrepancy between Celene's claim for desired peace and having gallows put in the courtyard. There was an obscured reason for Maeve being summoned here, Leliana felt it from the moment they were greeted by Briala at the Winter Palace. This presentation of the gallows and Maeve's disappearance were no coincidence.

Leliana's brows furred, jaw clenching as anger rose in her with each piece of the puzzle she put together. "Have any of you seen Maeve this morning?" She asked.

"I have not seen her since leaving dinner last night." Morrigan answered, her voice monotone as always.

"I went to her room this morning, and she was not there, not even a crease in her sheets. Which means Maeve never made it back to her room after she left dinner to meet with Celene. It appears we have another enemy. Morrigan do you have your staff?"

Morrigan didn't respond, instead she let the nod of her head answer for her.

"Good, keep an eye out for Maeve." Leliana said turning to leave.

Josephine's earthly brown eyes flared with worry. "Where are you going?!" Josephine shouted after her.

"To get my bow!" Leliana yelled back before being lost in the wave of bodies crowding the courtyard.

Before Josephine could say anything else the sound of applause and its echoes stirred around them. When she looked around her everyone was looking up to the grand balcony where Empress Celene stood smiling and waving to her people. Briala stood behind her, silent and obedient like usual. Celene allowed the cheering to continue for a moment before she let the sound of her voice cut through the commotion of the crowd.

"To the Lords and Ladies of my court and all the faithful children of our empire, I humbly thank you for joining us today. There is much that has happened this past week. My heart swells with regret for what I must tell you... I am here to inform you all that Ferelden is preparing for another war King Alistair wishes to claim my throne and rule."

The heap of people in the courtyard around Josephine and Morrigan surged, shouting and throwing their fists in the air. Curses and threats spewing from their angry lips. Celene lifted her hand gracefully from the balcony railing, signaling the crowd to calm their aggression.

"Due to Ferelden's aggressive tendencies, Inquisitor Lavellan has pledged what forces remained from her inquisition and calls forth all bodies who have pledged loyalty to the inquisition should I require them. With our organized militia and the Inquisition's experience on the battlefield, Ferelden will think twice before coming for Orlais!"

Another round of applause and patriotic shouts came from the people. Josephine had nearly been knocked over when someone pushed into the back of her.

"Excuse me but-" Josephine started but stopped her words once she realized it was Sera. Bull, Cole, and Blackwall were with her. "So much for coming back to food and rest." Blackwall said disgruntled.

"Where can we get a drink in this cluster fuck of people?" Asked Iron Bull, a wide cheesy grin lifting his lips.

Sera interjected, "Yeah! And ugh... what's with all the people, are we celebrating something?"

Josephine gave Bull and Sera a serious look. "We are not celebrating anything. Empress Celene is addressing her people about Ferelden's threat of war and Maeve is missing. Now is not the time for drinks!"

"Well don't mind us we have just been fighting mercenaries all friggin night!" Sera snapped sharply.

Celene continued her speech. "There is however, a grave matter I must address. After signing over the Inquisition's assistance, Inquisitor Lavellan was asked about her current ties to Solas and his whereabouts. To these questions, she refused to answer instead choosing to protect her traitorous lover. She has chosen Solas, the elven man who knew of the Qunari plot at the exalted council over the people of Orlais. Even the Inquisitor is not above my rule, for protected Solas, she has committed an act of treason and for that reason, I must pass judgment upon her..."

The people rioted, some defending Inquisitor Lavellan while the majority shouted for her to be hung. Their quarrels escalated into brawling. Women clung together trying to huddle themselves away from the scene. While other men jeered and jumped in the fight.

Leliana heard it all, every last word Celene spoke as she pushed her way back to her companions. The fire of fury burning inside her, "We have all been pawns used for Celene's dirty work. She asked us to come so we could rid her of Ferelden's mercenaries while gaining control over the Inquisition by falsely condemning Maeve. We have to do something!" Leliana barked at her companions.

"What can we do? We still have no idea where Maeve is. And in case you haven't noticed, we are surrounded by half the population of Orlais who are loyal to Celene." Josephine argued.

"Make way!" An older elven man roared at the crowd as he walked past making a path. He was followed closely by a stronger elven man who carried Maeve in his arms. "Make way!" The elven man shouted again.

"Where is that coming from?" Leliana asked, looking around to find the source of the shouting.

"Imma find out, Bull help me up!" Sera demanded.

Bull grabbed Sera by her waist lifting her above his head. Sera planted her feet on Bull's shoulders, grasping his horns for balance as she scanned over the flowing crowd of people. It didn't take long for her to notice the people stepping aside making a pathway. Her sight fell on the two figures walking through the path provided.

The one in front was hard to make out, his features hidden away by his cloak. The men behind him was elven but much broader than any other elven men she had seen. He wore no cloak or shirt, he wore only pants and boots. Wide sporadic scars littered his abdomen, it was Maeve's limp body that acted as a cover for his scars. The loose white dress she wore hung waving loosely from his movements. Her face pale as parchment, hues of soft violet colored her chapped lips, encircling her eyes. Long hair of obsidian cascaded over the man's arm in loose wet ringlets.

"That brutish arse has Maeve! They are taking her to the gallows!" Sera raucously said to the others.

"Shit." Bull said helping Sera down from his shoulders.

Josephine couldn't contain the panic she felt rushing over her. "What are we going to do?"

The elder elf reached the gallows first, walking up the stairs to where the noose hung. The stronger elf carried Maeve up to the gallows, holding her tightly in his arms as the older elf tied the noose around her right wrist. The strong elf put Maeve down letting the noose burden her weight. Shackles that were bolted to the floor beneath her had been clasped around her ankles. There she hung pathetically on parade for everyone to see, the traitorous Inquisitor.

Briala stepped forward lining herself up with Celene, admiring the scene below her, the fruit of her labor. Celene's voice resonated over the crowd, her tone solemn. "Inquisitor Lavellan, out of our gratitude for all you have done for Thedas, I will give you one last chance for mercy. Where is Solas?"

Maeve's flimsy body was too tired and weak from the torture she endured. She couldn't push herself to even lift her head to address the Empress. The weight of her head felt more like a sack of potatoes than the light extremity she had always had. Her answer trickled out from her mumbling lips; however, no one but the two elven men could hear her. The strong elven man stepped forward clutching Maeve by the back of her neck lifting her head upward to face the Empress and Briala.

Maeve had no idea where Solas was hiding, she never asked him. All she knew was where he called her to meet him. She had already betrayed their bond, at this point she'd rather endure their torture than betray him again. She used some of meager strength she had left in her fragile body to ensure Celene and Briala would hear her. "Ma ghilana mir din'an!" Her voice cracked as she projected her words. But she knew they heard her, the expression on their faces were telling enough.

Celene turned to Briala, one brow furrowed in confusion by Maeve's words. "Well, what did she say?" Celene asked Briala.

Briala's arms crossed over her chest, her face painted with a twisted smirked, "She requests we guide her into death."

The vibrant pigments of a red rose would be meek compared to color of rage that Celene wore. It wasn't just irritation she felt by Maeve's public defiance but embarrassment. She thought Maeve would surely abandon Solas after the torture Briala's agents had done to her.

Celene's eyes narrowed their cruel glare on Maeve. "If it is death the Inquisitor desires, then I will not deny her for I am your gracious Empress. Inquisitor Lavellan, I Empress Celene Valmont find you guilty of treason and sentence you to death by Lingchi."

Gossip and cheers spread amongst the crowd. Even those who attempted to whisper could not hide the echoing effect their words had. It had been a long time since such a punishment was given. Many people had heard of such tales but only the elderly could recall seeing such an atrocity.

Josephine hands cupped tightly over her mouth, her head shook back and forth in utter disbelief of Empress Celene's judgment. Tears descended her dark caramel cheeks. The sight of Josephine's reaction was a clear indication that something monstrous was about to happen. Sera could conceal the worry filling her, her voice loud and demanding, "What the shite is Lingchi?!"

They all looked over at Sera, their faces painted with horror. Josephine couldn't force herself to say anything, answering Sera would only make it all the more real. Leliana inhaled, letting her blue eyes hollow giving Sera a stone cold stare. Her tone followed the stare in a hard cynical her voice followed the stare in a cynical tone. "They plan to slice her slowly, removing layers of her skin and muscles over her body. Her torture will only end once they cut out her heart bearing it as a trophy for all to see."

Leliana wiped her eyes before any tears could form. Her heart ached for Maeve. She knew Maeve didn't know where Solas was and all she desired was to saved Thedas and be with him. But in this cold bitch called life, Maeve would not receive either. She had proven herself committed to the people, fought for them, lived for them, and had grown to love them.

But when offered lies and a memorable execution their once grateful façade diminished showing their foul nature. The crowd grew louder and more rambunctious with their applause and cheers for her death. Leliana felt repulsed by these so call human beings. A bunch of apples parading themselves as wholesome and vibrant, worthy of a bite. A mistake on the Inquisitor's part for granting a nibble upon these rotting apples. Under that pure red luster was a brown, dingy core with sludge-like consistency.

"So this is the gratitude she receives after all she has done..." Leliana's voice shaky and unstable. Her hands curled into tight fists that trembled at her sides. "I will not stand idly by and let them do this. She needs us. Who will fight with me?"

The group exchanged glances with each other forming their consensus. "Let's take these bastards down!" Sera declare, her white teeth showing through her wide cheesy grin.

A corner of Leliana's lips ascended as she nodded with approval at Sera. "I couldn't have said it better."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are almost there, can you taste it?  
> I will do my best to make it better than the water boarding chapter.  
> This is my first fanfic so it will be challenging but I will try!


	11. All it's Carved Glory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

The elder of the two elves stayed where he was, his role was the final act of slicing out her heart. He would present it to Briala as a gift of her victory. The younger and stronger elf stepped forwards until he was in front of Maeve, drawing his dagger from its sheath. A blade of pure silverite so sleek and sharp it had the ability to cut through a druffalo hide without any elevated effort. It would have taken him a tedious amount of time to make the blade as pristine as it was.

He leaned in towards Maeve, the side of his face against hers. He nuzzled his mouth against her ear, the vibrations of his voice echoed a low and stinging whisper. "It is such a pity to have to end you so soon. But do not worry, no part of your body shall go to waste. You are such a historical figure it would be a crime to discard you like garbage back into the earth. Although Briala will keep your heart, my old friend here has promised to preserve your body for me. I will mount your body with all its carved glory on my wall. You will be my most cherished piece of art. Your beauty will not go to waste.”

He pulled his face away from hers flaunting his deranged smile for her. This man was an abomination unlike any she had seen. He may be elven in form but there was no doubt he was truly a vile monster under his facade of flesh. Such a repulsive creature did not belong in this world.

The sight of his demented grin made Maeve sick. A foul taste filled her mouth, bitter and pungent. She could taste it, the disdain, her hatred for this man blooming within her mouth. With the noose holding her wrist and shackles grounding her bare feet to the splinter wood floor, there was only one option left to attack with.

Maeve used the noose to her advantage, it is what held the majority of her weight, the shackles on the ground provided her enough stability to control the area of her movement. Using her bindings to a meager advantage Maeve thrusted her body at the elven man, angling her head as far forward as possible. If this plan worked, she would be able to bite off some part of his lips or cheek.

_He won’t be smiling for long._ She thought.

In her act of anger, she had been reckless with her realistic consideration of her restraints, what appeared as a meager advantage was in no way an actual advantage. The restraints limited her much more than she had expected. With a mere step backwards, the man was able to dodge her rampant mouth. The only thing to fill Maeve’s mouth was stinging pain followed by the gentle stream of blood that branched its way between the cracks of her chapped lips into her mouth. The man wasn’t only able to dodge, he countered her attack with a cut from the very tip of his blade. Her attempt to hurt him backfired. Instead of inflicting pain, she had encouraged his psychotic nature.

A scoff pushed through his lips in seer amusement. His smile was wide, bearing teeth of white parchment, creases formed at the corner his eyes. The reaction he displayed appeared overly enthused by her actions.

“You’re not as weak as you appear to be, there is still some fight in you.” He paused, licking his lips with enticement. “I will drain you, every last trickle of fight you have left until you are desolate and barren like the Hissing Wastes.”

He stepped towards her leaving only a few feet of space between them. He lifted his left hand, tightly grasping it over Maeve’s wrist noose and all. With the dagger in his other hand he glided the grind of the blade through the loose white fabric of her flowing dress. Maneuvering the blades tip to tickle the surface of her cold pale skin. The path of the blade descended from just below her wrist over her arm to her shoulder. The blue layered embroidery that decorated the front collar of her dress was sliced through like melted butter.

A wave of white billowy fabric fluttered to the ground sprawling around the harsh iron shackles that clung to her ankles. Maeve’s face flushed a violent red as if she had been burned by fire. There was nowhere she could turn, no way to crouch or cover herself. She was forced to stand there bare and on parade, only her panties and breast band to protect her from the crowds hungry stares. The crowd pointed and teased her, many shouting for him to remove her undergarments before cutting into her.

Maeve could feel it, a thin cool grid of the blade snaking its way through a layer of her arm. What had felt so cool smooth before was now rushing with heat. His handle on the dagger was steady and precise as he slid the knife through the layer of her skin over her bicep. His free hand grasping the flap of flesh he created, peeling it backwards making an open trail for his cut to follow. She had been cut before but not in the way this lunatic was doing. The cut from a knife stung but to be filleted was not a pain she had endured. The cut still stung but with a searing pain much like a burn. Maeve gritted her teeth, refusing to let him hear her cries. She knew all it would do is fuel his sadistic nature, there was no sense of humanity left in his hollowed corpse.

He turned towards the crowd holding up the blood soaked flap of skin in the air. He flung the scrap of flesh into the front row of citizens sending them into bloodthirsty frenzy. This was a historical event for all these people and they were ready to make it memorable.

Strings of blood descended from her arm trailing over her shoulder and underarm painting an interwoven path over her chest. A scarlet necklace adorning her pale decollete. Though it couldn’t compare to the heat that radiated from her wound, the warmth of her blood felt unnerving against her cool clammy skin.

The oozing blood didn't deter him from returning to the same spot on her arm. There was a pang from the start of his new cut that brought with it a stronger sting than the one before. The grind of his dagger wedged its way between her bicep and bone. He was carving into like a hunter would with the fresh kill of a halla.

A stream of tears rushed over the brim of her lashes. There was no way to keep them back any longer, it was as automatic as breathing at this point. Maeve clung to her resolve of not giving him the gratification of her voice. Her cheeks swollen inwards as she bit the inside of her lips which cause another pain of its own. The fresh gash was still raw and bleeding. It hurt, but it was the only thing she could do to harbor her cries away. The metallic taste coated her parched mouth.

_Who would have thought she’d feel so thirsty after what she endured?_ She thought.

His fingers curled inward clenching her crimson coated muscles within his merciless grasp attempting to still her arm. The laceration of the blade added a tearing sting so intense Maeve couldn’t stop the spasm of her muscles in response. A mistake she paid dearly for… The spasm caused her body to jerk and with the knife lodged between her muscle and bone, it shifted the blade of the dagger to slice downward into the surface of her bone.

A rasped cry bursted from her aching throat and past her cracked bleeding lips. Scattered crimson specks flailed through the air carried from the force of her blistered cry.

One side of his lips lifted, portraying his condescending smirk. “You should hold still, you’re ruining my precision.”

The elf turned his blade a few degrees upwards continuing his slice through her bicep. Flinging it onto the ground of the wooden floor boards. Blood drained heavily from her arm, coating her once knitted stands of blood into thick gush of blood. These crimson ribbons spilled down her fragile pale frame dying her once white breast band and panties a deep hue of cranberry.

His body shifted in front of her, turning his back to the crowd as his scarlet glazed hand gripped her jaw fingers squeezing the hollow of her cheeks. Maeve tried to jerk her face from his slick grip but his grip tightened forcing her face to look upwards at him. The stare of her glossy emerald eyes clashed with his fixed stare of soulless gray eyes. This stare off didn't last longer than mere seconds before his tongue glided against her. A moist sweep of his tongue brushed over the bleed gash that swelled outward from her dry fissured lips. He didn’t avert his gaze for even a second, observing the disgusted expression that painted over her battered face. Maeve tried pulling back from his grip once more but he clung her still with his bruising hold forcing her to look upon his sickening sneer. "Don't fail me now, we’re just getting started."

The tip of his dagger pressed lightly against her once more starting from the soft dip of her jugular notch slithering downward. It trailed over that wraps of her breast band, following the defined dip of her toned stomach, over her naval before it strayed from its vertical route. The sleek tip diverted caressing over the hem of her red trailed panties down towards her right leg stopping at the beginning of her right thigh.

The cut started shallow his blade steady and direct with his disciplined hand. The pain was conflicting, Maeve felt the heated pain of her skin tearing yet the daggers cool silverite material glided through her layers of skin in a fluid motion. Regardless of the conflicting sensations of her developing wound, it hurt like a bitch all the same.

He held the flap of her thigh skin in his left hand displaying it for the crowd behind him. The shouts and cries of enthusiasm from the crowd grew louder, but it was when he tosses the thigh cut of skin behind him that the crowd got truly rambunctious. The result of his work left Maeve’s quadriceps raw and vulnerable. With the way his body was positioned, no one but he and Maeve could see it yet. And Maeve saw it, the tears of red her wound cried. The way they trailed her leg lacing and veering downward expanding their scarlet strands around her shackles to the base of her foot. It reminded her of the roots of a tree knitted yet scattered.

It was proving excessively difficult to support what body weight she could with her legs while attempting to keep herself still while he flayed her. She still felt weak, unable to regain her strength from the events she suffered hours before. She thought the cuts would be her undoing alone but the volume of blood she was losing at this rate would kill her much faster. Her breaths grew short, shallow bursts flung from her throat.

The polished slope of the metal grind planted between her quadriceps and femur made it impossible for her to control her breathing at all. There was little tugging necessary but Maeve felt her muscles tear like strands of melted cheese. The way he gripped her inflamed muscle pulling it towards him while slicing through, she could see it, the fibers of her muscles attempting to cling to her bone as it was being ripped away.

Her vision through watery eyes grew blurry at the sight. The pain she was feeling still hurt, but it was fading. All the aches and discomforts she had felt were quickly numbing. Her body felt weightless, her thirst was quenched, there was no clash of hot and cold against her flesh… it was freeing.

Maeve knew what this meant, and she welcomed such a euphoric embrace. This was her escape from the burden of this world and its hatred. She remembered Leliana’s words, “… the fate all beings will be rewarded with.”

A vibrant milky orb that danced along the deep navy waves of the night sky. She will radiate her cool snowy light upon Thedas and shine the brightest among all the others for him to see. Solas. Her vibrant glow dedicated to him, to the gleam in his soft blue eyes that would reflect her angelic glow.

Her eyelids had already started their decent. There wasn’t much time left but there was enough for Maeve to gather her focus on him. One last message before she faded. He was on her mind, heart, and her very soul, she had to ask him.

_When your time comes will you join me amidst the stars ma vhenan?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven Translation:  
> Ma vhenan- My heart
> 
> I hope my lingchi was up to your expectations. I wasn't as thorough on the process as I was with the water boarding, sorry. Cutting off nipples and genitals is where I draw the line. My poor Lavellan! :'(


	12. The Fruition of his Labor

The horrid sensations Maeve felt, the flood of thoughts thrashing through her head, and then nothing. Her mind would go black like the depths of the sea. She was unobtainable for him and his fade magic in her blacked-out state. Then she would wake shaking and panicked, infected by fear as if it was an illness coursing through her veins. 

Solas heard everything she felt and thought while those monstrosities tortured her. It was like he told her  _i_ _f_ _your_ _need to be heard _ _is_ _strong enough._  With the connection they shared, she flooded him with all she felt and thought. Her need and desperation clinging to him whether she meant to or not.

_Briala,_ _I should have killed her when I took control of the_ _eluvians_ _!_  He scolded himself.

He couldn't help her before with the remainder of his plans still falling into place but now, he had what he needed. The fruition of his labor and sacrifice within his grasp. Just one thing left to collect,  _his future_ _bondmate_.

His sleeping beauty, a woman betrayed by the very people she protected. This is how they show gratitude for their beloved "Herald of Andraste". His jaw clenched causing pale cheeks to sulk inwards. Brown eyebrows furrowed together almost as tightly as his fists clenched. 

A repugnant taste coated his tongue. His feelings of repulsion for this world and all it had become was infecting him physically. The poison of his hatred for these shems grew with each passing moment. The heat of rage rushing through his veins fueled the intensity of his magic.

The hatred he felt for the dwarves, qunari and especiallythose filthy worthless shems pushed him over the edge. Solas felt his magic at its peak and before he knew it Fen'Harel had taken over. His eyes glowed a shattering electric green as the deep blue essence of the wolf surrounded his elvhen body. He pulled down the wolf head over his own, letting the dense black pelt cover the back and sides of his armor.

  _I am coming_ _for you_ _Vhenan.._ _._

_\------------------------_

Everyone in the crowd cheered vigorously for the gruesome ordeal before them, leaving Sera the perfect opportunity to settle herself in a high position without drawing attention. Sera positioned herself on top of a high back wall that separated the courtyard from the armory. Her left hand holding steady on the grip of her bow while the right pulled back the string as she aimed her shot for the older elf that stood away from Maeve and the other elf.  _I'll show you another way to tear muscles Bastards!_  She fumed to herself. She took a deep breath, letting the air of anger fill her lungs, releasing her arrow at the end of her exhalation. The arrow jolted into the depth of his chest knocking him off the gallows and to the ground in one swift flight.

Celene and Briala watched from their ostentatious balcony as the attack began. Celene face glowed a brazen red as fury surged through her at the sight. Her heated gaze turned to Briala, "Kill the Inquisitor and the companion she brought!"

Briala nodded silently before nimbly leaping over the balcony's edge down to the cluster of startled attendees. Celene continued to look down observing in maddened disbelief at the sight playing out before her. The fighting between her palace guards and the Inquisitor's companions had already begun.

A rambunctious elf girl danced atop the wall firing arrows upon her guard as quick and numerous as raindrops. Near the entrance stood a one eyed Qunari slaying her soldiers with the slight swing of his great axe. Her men were little more than seeds being ploughed into the ground by the sheer weight of his weapon alone. Her eyes averted to the gallows where Briala's elven agent had been encountered by a pasty blonde man with a wide brimmed hat. She could almost hear the sound of their daggers clashing like hollowed cymbals as they fought. Where this man came from was a concern to deal with after her men dealt with them.

She had to consider the idea that her soldiers might not be enough to take out these renegades. And it dawned on her that though they had strength, they were not strong enough to take out the mass number of Orlesian loyalists among them. She called out to her citizens in hopes they would give her soldiers support.

"My dear subjects, these conspirators of the Inquisition have initiated a fight not just against your Empress but also you, the people of Orlais. They would protect a criminal rather than protect you. Show them how Orlais deals with its enemies!"

Her citizens felt motivated to fight from her words, drunk on patriotism, their shouts and roars echoing through the air like thunder. Women and children clung to one another trying to find sanctuary from the heightening madness surrounding them. Those armed drew their swords and daggers thrusting them upwards piercing the air above. Celene watched as the massive crowd below her swarmed into action. Like currents in a river, they relentlessly rushed at their targets forging their own path.

Blackwall and Josephine positioned themselves beside the armory and gate entrance. They fought the mob that surrounded them. Using a rapier that Josephine had taken from the armory, she struck down the stunned men that Blackwall had bashed with his great shield. With Sera positioned on the wall above them, any man left standing after Josephine's attack became a magnet for Sera's arrows.

Morrigan paired off with Iron Bull acting as support. She focused on casting barrier spells around them as well as her comrades. Even Maeve, who hung limply on the gallows across the courtyard from them. Iron Bull handled the horde of men clustering around them, swinging his massive two-handed axe in a circle, he ripped through the flesh of any man eager enough to get in his way. 

The courtyard was so dense with people Leliana kept losing sight of Briala. The surrounding chaos made it all the more difficult for her to use her bow as planned. She had grown rusty with her knife skills since becoming Spy Master. Fighting two soldiers was taking longer than she expected due to the frightened women and children running through the crowd.

The sounds of a deafening clap that drew everyone's attention skyward. The bright rays of the sun faded to a nightly blue. Strikes of green lightning struck the ground setting areas of the courtyard and the people within its radius aflame. The balcony Celene watched from was struck down, its carved white surface was nothing but a grave of burning rubble. 

Screams and cries were a mere chorus to the loud violet strike of lightning that continued to strike the ground and structures throughout the grand courtyard. The screams and cries of people were deafening as soldier and citizen alike panicked rushing towards the palace gate. Leliana stiffened her muscles, hardening her physique as she pushed against the frantic bodies pushing against her. No amount of thrown elbows or curses were going to stop her from making her way towards the gallows.

Leliana cut through any soldier and man that got in her way until she got to the stairs of the gallows where Cole and the elf were fighting. Using the grind of her knife she roughlycarved through the thick noose tied around Maeve's wrist. 

She caught Maeve before she fell to the ground, slowly lowering her down to the ground. The shackles bolted to the floor would need the key, but Leliana could unlock them without a key after she dressed Maeve's wounds. She used a long strip of fabric torn from her sleeve, using it to wrap around Maeve's right thigh where she was freshly bleeding.

When Leliana lifted her sight to rip the fabric from her other sleeve, she became fixated on the daunting scene at the gated entrance. A tall unearthly figure approached the gates of the Winter Palace. All who were near the gate turned to stone. Frozen in the heat of their battle and fear of the turmoil destroying the glorious palace around them. Those foolish enough to attack got struck down by spears of vibrant green energy.

Fen'Harel could smell her from the moment he arrived. The scent of her blood filled his sensitive nose drowning his sense of smell with her bittersweet perfume fueling the rage burning within his bones. As he walked past the crowd of shems he saw his old companions fighting those who remained untouched by his magic. He walked past them leaving them to their own fights, what he came for awaited him at the gallows.

As he walked closer, he saw Cole fighting the veryelf who martyrized his Vhenan. The sight of him made Fen'Harel cringe with disdain. Hatred swelled and swirled within him. His heart no longer pumped blood, it supplied vigor to his fury. With a sharp waive of his arm he cast a stonefist in the elf, projecting him off the gallows and backwards through the dense stone structure of the outer palace wall. The sight of the elf was lost among the dust and rubble left from his impact.

As Fen'Harel came closer the tighter Leliana held Maeve within her embrace. The figure she had watched storm the courtyard was Solas but not. A large wolf-like essence surrounding his limbs radiated a dark and heavy energy. This Solas is more foreign to her than the conniving apostate of the Inquisition she remembered.

He had made his way up the stairs of the gallows leaving only a few feet between him and Maeve when Leliana pointed her dagger at him. She held Maeve close to her chest with her other arm, like a mother with her infant child. "Get away from her you demon!" She shouted. Her voice a loud cracked shriek.  

Before he could respond Cole grabbed Leliana's wrist yanking it upwards in the air. She tried pulling away but with no success.

"What are you doing Cole?" Leliana shouted.

Cole looked down at Leliana as she cradled Maeve against her chest. "Let him take her, he can save her."

"You fool," She screamed, "It is not some coincidence he shows up once she is unconscious. She would refuse to leave us if she was awake. He let this happen!" Her bulging glare set on Fen'Harel. "Didn't you Solas!"

Using his winter's grasp on the bolted area of the shackles freezing them. With a meager yank on the chains of her shackles he shattered them, freeing Maeve of her bonds.

"Justify your hatred for me however you please, the end result will not change. Maeve is coming with me. I am her only salvation now." The dark energy around him flickered zealously but his stare was cold and sharp.

She felt reluctant to let him take Maeve but time was running out and the chance of them being able to get Maeve out of the Winter Palace alive was improbable. Solas or whoever this being is, was Maeve's only chance.

He was growing impatient with her unwillingness to accept the state of her current predicament. They would never be able to stop her bleeding in time or find a healer skilled enough to treat her.

"Let her go Leliana, her life is now mine." He spoke with a growl.

He reached his arms under Maeve's neck and legs lifting her gently out of Leliana's arms, cradling her against his chest. Her blood coated his armor causing him to tighten his grip on her so she couldn't slip from his grasp.

As the crowd of remaining soldiers and men continued to attack their companions, Solas stepped down from the gallows ignoring the help they so clearly needed, turning only the bodies blocking his way into stone. Cole released his grip on Leliana's wrist fading into stealth. He left sneaking up behind a crowd of men attacking Iron bull and Morrigan.

Leliana watched from the gallows as Solas walked away heading towards the entrance to the palace. Her face flushed red with irritation, "Aren't you going to help us Solas?" She shouted after him.

Solas continued walking away, refusing to even turn his head as he spoke, "There is no point, Maeve is on borrowed time, as are all of you."

Leliana rushed to her feet leaping over the edge of the gallows. Cutting through anybody who got in her way, she chased after him.

"Solas!"

He stopped, her hand grabbing his shoulder as she ran before him blocking his path.

"You can't abandon her again, you're all she will have left."

Leliana's words surprised him. He expected her to unleash her anger upon him but instead she showed her vulnerability. Bittersweet tears descended her lightly freckled cheeks. She wasn't ashamed to cry for the love of her friend knowing it would be her last time seeing her. Leliana's words were genuine and selfless.

Fen'Harel smiled meagerly at her, "You have my word." His voice was soft and tender for an elf who just wiped out waves of men with a look and waive of his hand.

A weak smile brushed over Leliana's lips before she let it slip, turning away as she ran to help her companions fight.

Fen'Harel used his mana for his fade step, steering his way up the front stairs of the palace and racing to the east storage room. Using his veilstrike once more to bust down the locked door. Inside was the eluvian Maeve had used during her summoned visit with the exalted council.

With his control of the eluvian he transported them to his small chamber, laying her gently on the ground as he gathered his focus. He needed to harness all the mana he had within him, now was the time to fix his mistakes. He looked down at Maeve, her skin cold and damp from sweat, her breaths rapid and unsteady. He couldn't fail his people, he couldn't fail his Vhenan or she would die. The thought of her death pushed him over the edge. The deep blue essence that surrounded his body expanded, pulsing vigorously with the surge of his mana. Green electric sparks surged from his hands as the surrounding air tore open revealing a pooling rift.

This rift was different from the others that they had encountered on the journeys. There was an image inside the rift, an image of Elvhenan from when he remembered it. The tall intricate stone and glass buildings, lush greenery surrounding the cities, vast amounts of animals running free, and grand temples with flowers and offerings laid in front of their entrances. The sky was a bright blue clouds weaving around the vibrant sunlight, its rays warming the air and ground. Crystal blue rivers streamed through meadows and hills forging their way to the ocean. This is the Elvhenan that he would bring his people back to.

As he poured his mana into the rift the more it vastly spread. Every particle the rift touched appeared hazy before the image of the grand world Fen'Harel remembered filled in the center spreading its images meticulouslyback to where they were from his memory. He thrusted the last of his mana completing the tear of the veil as he dropped to his knees panting intensely. He had to get up, his mission wasn't complete yet. His knees shook violently as he strained himself to pick Maeve's cold body off the floor. Carrying her to the eluvian was an agonizing struggle. Each step its own battle as he forced his way through the rippling cold surface of the eluvian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have reached the bittersweet end of my sadistic love story.  
> I want to thank you all for reading :)

**Author's Note:**

> Elven language translations from Dragon Age Wiki


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